Preparatory Playboy?
by CoffeeObsessed007
Summary: Tristan DuGray: Player extrodionaire. Mission: His newest conquest. Target: Lorelai Leigh Gilmore.
1. Uhm, Very Shiny

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing . . . . Authors note: This is slightly AU. Rory is in her final year at Chilton, as is Tristan. However, the two are not in any of each others classes, and therefore have never met before. All other things are basically the same.  
  
* * * * *  
  
". . .Money is human happiness in the abstract: he, then, who is no longer capable of enjoying human happiness in the concrete devotes his heart entirely to money. . ."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The music was almost deafening when the base blasted out of his SPL 4 x 6 in 2 way speakers. He ran his hand through his gelled hair that had been temporarily lightened by the suns festive rays, the rearview mirror situated so that it was directed at himself rather than the stretch of freeway behind him. His lips danced with a self-admiring smile as he shot himself a wink and reached over to turn the volume up yet another notch, his silver Cartier watch catching a glint of sun. His hair was riffled by the wind, adding a care-free quality to his boyish good looks; he was going well over the speed limit but he enjoyed the exhilarating feeling it gave him.  
  
One hand rested at the top of the steering wheel as the other lightly controlled the clutch, his head bouncing slightly to the beat of the rap music that blared from the vehicle. The top was down on his sleek black 2002 Mercedes-Benz SLK that he had recently received from "Daddy" for his seventeenth birthday.  
  
When he had strutted down the steps of Chilton that day and saw his beauty sitting in the parking lot, finished off with a vast red bow tied around it, he couldn't help the smile that took over his chiseled face. He was now the most adored and hated guy at the prestigious private school; all the girls wanted a ride in the flashy car, and all the guys scoffed at it.  
  
He removed the CD that had been playing and replaced it with the newest DMX album he had received as a gift from his latest conquest; Alison MacIntyre. Blonde hair, green eyes, and legs that went on forever. He smirked as he remembered the events that had taken place previous nights ago in his very car. Alison was definitely an eager girl, hands down. He wasn't complaining though. . . it had been the highlight of his week. Was he a player? Yes, and he enjoyed the game thoroughly. He refused to change himself for anyone.  
  
He was through with her now. . . she didn't know this information yet, but she would eventually get the hint when he avoided her calls. Maybe he would 'accidentally' bump into her somewhere with another girl that he would most- likely drop before a weeks time was up. His theory was love 'em and leave 'em. Who wanted to be tied down to just one girl when there were so many luscious offers out there? The girls were drawn to him like a bee to honey; they all wanted him as their next trophy boyfriend that they could show off to their elite friends.. They lavished him, bought him expensive gifts, and were great eye candy for him to have on his arm.  
  
He was intent on finding his newest conquest today at the club. He wanted to find someone who would challenge him, someone who would play hard to get, but when he finally 'got', it would be well worth the wait. He smiled wickedly. Yes, today he would find himself his next new prey.  
  
'Tristan DuGray,' he thought to himself as he carelessly pulled into the closest parking spot he could find at the Hartford Country Club, 'You are God.'  
  
* * * * *  
  
"I can't believe my mother is dragging us here," Lorelai expressed as she pulled into the furthest parking spot she could find. "I don't want to park too close to the club, their snobbery might rub off onto our pretty jeep."  
  
Rory rolled her eyes. "Great. Not only to we have to go to this party, but now we have to walk a mile to get to it."  
  
"Who does my mother think she is, saying it would be rude of me not to come? Do I even know this Hilary girl? I do not have the slightest clue who she is, not one single memory, but apparently we were close friends in high school. That is, until I got knocked up." Lorelai sighed as her and Rory made their way to the club at the slowest pace possible. "What do I care if she's getting engaged?"  
  
"Mom," Rory began, shrugging her shoulders and shielding her eyes from the sun. "Just remember that this gets us out of going to dinner this Friday night."  
  
A small smile appeared on her mothers lips. "Amen, sister-friend."  
  
The two girls paused outside of the double doors leading into the social standing landmark and the mystery woman's engagement party. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and wild flowers. "Ready?"  
  
Rory nodded, linking her arm through Lorelai's. "Sure."  
  
Lorelai opened the door and they walked down the hall until they found a conference room that had been arranged and decorated to accommodate the colossal number of guests. Their ears were immediately hit with high pitched squeals as ladies looked at the bride-to-be's valuable ring, talk of summer homes, and information of children attending Ivy League schools.  
  
"You know, that will be me someday, talking about how proud I am of you for getting into Harvard or Yale. Of course, I won't sound like I have a stick shoved up my---"  
  
"Lorelai, Rory!" Emily interrupted the two and placed her hand on Lorelai's shoulder. "I'm so delighted the two of you came."  
  
"Yes, of course we came Mom; you never really gave us an choice, did you?" Lorelai said, letting out a hesitant laugh.  
  
"Of course I gave you a choice, I don't control you Lorelai, nor do I control Rory. You two came on your own free will," Emily huffed.  
  
"Okay, Pinocchio," Lorelai said, turning to Rory and putting her arm around her shoulder. "What do you say we find the food table and hide out there for the rest of this shindig?"  
  
"You most certainly will not," Emily intervened, her expression cross. "There are some people I would like you to meet, and I would appreciate if you would be polite and manage to keep your crude street jokes to yourself."  
  
Lorelai forced a smile, and through gritted teeth, she replied, "Okay, Mother. Congratulations, Hilary," she said, smiling politely as her 'old- time friend' passed by. Hilary smiled graciously and continued walking. Leaning down so only Rory could hear, she muttered, "I couldn't pick her out of a line up."  
  
Rory laughed lightly, and then turned to Emily. "Actually, Grandma, I was hoping to take a walk through the gardens they have here. I hear they are really beautiful this time of year and I would like to take a look for myself, if you don't mind. I won't be long, just a few minutes."  
  
Emily smiled. "Of course Rory, the gardens here are lovely, but hurry back. Lorelai, don't think you're getting away that easily," she said, noticing the excited look on her daughter's face as she contemplated her escape. "I'd like you to come with me, please."  
  
"But I---"  
  
"Lorelai." Her voice was stern and final.  
  
Rory laughed inwardly as Lorelai stuck out her tongue while Emily dragged her by the arm across the room. She left the conference room and headed outside to the broad patio where she breathed out a sigh of relief to be away from all of the commotion. She turned her gaze towards the lushly planted park and allowed herself to be relaxed by the calming and peaceful atmosphere it presented. She leaned against the wooden railing for support and noted the exquisite ornate fountains, ethereal turquoise blue, yellow, and green Moorish tiles and the shady gazebo. Casting her glance in the direction of the parking lot, she squinted her eyes in effort to make out their lonely jeep.  
  
A low, masculine voice spoke softly in her ear. "You admiring my car?"  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tristan sat back on the patio, off to the side in the shade where he couldn't be seen. He wanted to be able to see all of his choices in detail before they had a chance to see him first and stake their claim.  
  
He sipped on his iced tea and judged each eligible looking girl as they walked by. 'Too tall. . . too mousy. . . too. . . too. . . well, just not right. . . too butch. . .'  
  
He caught sight of a brunette walking out of the main hall and onto the patio. The sun glistened off her chestnut hair as she walked and he watched intently as she leaned herself against the patio railing. She wasn't the most elegant or classy looking girl, but she certainly was beautiful. She wore a white skirt that in his opinion, certainly didn't show enough skin, and a tastefully low-cut - but not low enough - blue tank top. She had a body that caused his senses to kick into overdrive and he immediately began to picture all the things he wanted to do to it.  
  
Tristan gulped down the rest of his iced tea in efforts to cool himself down; this was her, no questions asked. His newest catch, his flavor of the month. She would be perfect, and if she didn't see it now, he would make her see soon enough.  
  
Licking his lips, he weaned his way through the outdoor tables and chairs until he was just inches away from her. . . so close that he could smell the scent of her apple shampoo. He leaned just a little closer until his lips were millimeters away from her ear. "You admiring my car?"  
  
The girl gasped and quickly turned around. Tristan used this situation to his advantage and placed his arms on either side of her, trapping her between him and the railing. He smiled at her and removed the sunglasses from his eyes to the top of his head. "She's a beauty, huh?"  
  
Rory shrugged and blushed. "I really don't know much about cars, but uh, 'she' certainly is nice. Uhm, very shiny."  
  
Tristan laughed to himself. 'Very shiny?' He thought, 'she sounds like a ditz. This will be easier than I thought.' "The name's Tristan DuGray. I'd be happy to take you for a ride sometime if you'd like."  
  
Rory shifted uncomfortably at their close proximity and at how strongly this stranger was coming on to her. "Oh, well. . . I'm not from around here, Tristan, I'm just here with my mom."  
  
"I can give you a ride home. Where do you live?"  
  
'He certainly is persistent.' "Um, Stars Hollow. I really should get back," Rory said, ducking under his arm and heading up the steps to the doors.  
  
"Wait," Tristan said, grabbing her elbow lightly. "What's your name?"  
  
"Lorelai." Rory replied cautiously. "Well, bye."  
  
As she disappeared through then mahogany doors, Tristan smirked. He had a feeling he would be seeing Lorelai again soon, and although she wasn't eager now, he was positive that soon enough, she would be putty in his hands.  
  
* * * * *  
  
So, what did you think? Review and please let me know whether you liked it, hated it, or whatever. I like to hear constructive criticism, but please be tasteful. I'm just trying this out because the idea just came to me.  
  
See the purple review button? Wow, isn't it pretty? Click it, you know you waaaannna.... :) 


	2. Mind Games

Disclaimer: To keep it short and sweet, I own nothing :)  
  
Authors note: Thank-you so much for all of the reviews! I definitely was not expecting all the feedback, but it is very much appreciated. Keep it coming, it only encourages me more, and I enjoy any kind of constructive criticism you may have for me, but please keep it tasteful. Enjoy the second chapter.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of our tasks; the ultimate. . . the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Hey babe, what took you so long?" Lorelai asked as soon as she spotted Rory walk through the doors. She took her by the arm, dragging her to a more remote part of the room and shot her daggers. "I had to stand there in front of all these weird people I'd never met before, smiling and nodding like a fool. I did it for so long that I think my face may be stuck like this." Lorelai flashed an exaggerated smile as if to prove her point.  
  
Rory shook her head sympathetically, but laughed. "Wow, I am sorry."  
  
"Yeah, you sound it," Lorelai replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "So, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand?"  
  
"I'm with you on that one," Rory agreed, and the two began to weave their way through the groups of people.  
  
"So, I'll ask you again; what took you so long?" Lorelai repeated.  
  
"Oh, well it was hot. You know how I start to walk slowly when it's hot," Rory smiled meekly.  
  
Lorelai narrowed her eyes and stopped walking for a moment, placing her hands on Rory's shoulders and turning her body so it faced her own. "Uh huh. . . why do I not believe you?"  
  
"I don't know, it's a very plausible story."  
  
"So, tell me again why you took so long?"  
  
"It was hot." Rory took a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably from side to side, managing to avoid any eye contact with her mother.  
  
"You lie," Lorelai gasped, pushing her index finger on Rory's shoulder. "Your eyes are doing that squinty thing they do."  
  
"Drat," Rory replied, sighing. "Fine, some guy was hitting on me out on the patio, and it just wasn't a story I wanted to relive, thank-you-very-much."  
  
Lorelai's eyes lit up and she laughed. "A guy hit on you? That's so fun! What was his name? What did he look like? Was he cute?"  
  
"See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. . . because I knew we would play twenty questions. Yes, a guy hit on me. He was good looking, I guess, but he was the most obnoxious person I've ever met in my life. He was so conceited." Rory began playing with a strand of her hair and looking around the room. "So can we go now?"  
  
"Sure," Lorelai said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Right after you tell me his name."  
  
"Tristan something-or-other. . . DuGray maybe," Rory replied. "Happy now?"  
  
"Very, let's go." They turned towards the door, almost running into Emily. "Ah, mom! Jeeze, way to give your daughter and seventeen year old granddaughter a heart attack."  
  
"Don't be dramatic, Lorelai," Emily sighed, and then turned her attention to Rory. "What's this I hear about Tristan DuGray?"  
  
Rory felt a blush begin to creep into her cheeks. "Oh, it's nothing Grandma."  
  
"Are you friends with him? He comes from a very respectable family. He would be a wonderful suitor." She clasped her hands together. "Oh, I can see it now. . ."  
  
"Mom, before you start writing the wedding invitations, Rory is not friends with him, they just met out on the patio. Although I think he might be interested in showing her a good time," Lorelai joked, nudging Rory with her elbow.  
  
"Mom," Rory hissed, "Stop."  
  
"What do you mean?" Emily questioned, her concerned glance moving between the two girls.  
  
"Nothing, mother. Listen, I think we're going to take off now," Lorelai said, changing the subject. "Thank-you for insisting we come, we had a lovely time." She flashed her rehearsed fake smile. "See you next week for dinner."  
  
"Yes, good-bye Lorelai, Rory. Have a nice week."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Wow, that week flew by," Lorelai said, standing awkwardly at the door to the Gilmore mansion. Rory nodded from beside her as they each stared at the door.  
  
"You knock," Lorelai said.  
  
"No, you."  
  
"I said it first."  
  
"I knocked last week."  
  
The door swung open and Emily smiled at the two. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you two. Come in, come in." She ushered them into the foyer and turned to them. Her smile seemed to get bigger by the second.  
  
"Why so happy, mom? Did you suddenly realize that you had a bridge club meeting and we won't be able to have dinner this week?"  
  
"No, Lorelai."  
  
"Oh right, I'm sorry, that's what would make me happy. What's up, mom?"  
  
"Nothing is up. I have a surprise for the two of you."  
  
"Oh, a surprise," Rory jumped in. "Is it a pony?"  
  
Emily flashed her a confused look. "I swear, you grow more and more like your mother everyday."  
  
Rory smiled. "Well, I try."  
  
"I ran into Janlen DuGray the other day, and I invited his family to dinner tonight," Emily said excitedly, looking at their blank expressions. "I thought it would give you and the DuGray boy a chance to catch up."  
  
"What? Catch up? But we barely said two words to each other," Rory replied, her eyes pleading with Lorelai and Emily desperately.  
  
"Well then it will give you an opportunity to get to know one another, won't it? Let's go, they are in the living room."  
  
As she proceeded to get a drink on her way, Rory grabbed Lorelai's wrist to hold her back. "Mom, this is so embarrassing! I don't want to have to face him again. Please don't make me go in there."  
  
"I'm sorry, sweets. Maybe he isn't as bad as you think," she suggested. "You know, sometimes people can give you a surprisingly wrong first impression, but once you get to know them, they are actually very interesting people. At least, that's what I hear about myself." She laughed.  
  
Rory sighed. "Fine. Let's go."  
  
As soon as Rory saw him sitting on the sofa, she wanted to scream; he looked so damn sure of himself, which ordinarily wouldn't be a bad thing if he hadn't sent an implying wink in her direction. Avoiding eye contact with him, she chose to sit herself in a chair on the opposite side of the room. She folded her hands in her lap and sat, trying to look interested in the conversation that was taking place, but she couldn't seem to stop her eyes from wandering to Tristan.  
  
He smiled and mouthed the word 'Hi'.  
  
Sighing, she mouthed it back. Maybe he would behave tonight. Maybe he would make up for how he had acted the previous week.  
  
'You look good,' he mouthed, skimming his eyes over her body.  
  
Rory rolled her eyes. Maybe not. After a few moments of his awkward and direct glances, they finally moved into the dining room for dinner.  
  
Just as Rory was about to slide into her seat, Tristan had beat her to it, and he glanced up at her with a smirk playing on his lips. Rory sighed. "Fine, sit here."  
  
"We can share," he replied, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"No, you can have the stupid chair if you want it."  
  
"Oh I want it, alright," Tristan said, his voice barely above a whisper in her ear, ". . . just not the chair."  
  
Rory felt her cheeks redden and she rubbed her ear on her shoulder in effort to rid the tingly feeling his breath had caused. "You are such a creep," she hissed before sitting herself beside him as it was the only spot left.  
  
"So Rory, your grandmother tells me you plan on attending Harvard?" Janlen inquired.  
  
"Oh, well I haven't really decided yet. I've been accepted to both Yale and Harvard, so it's sort of a toss up between the two."  
  
"She gets both her beauty and her brains from me," Lorelai joked, her voice holding a modest tone.  
  
An impressed look came over Janlen's features. "Yale is a wonderful school. A long line of DuGray's have graduated from there. It would be a wonderful opportunity for you. Perhaps I could tell you about some of my past experiences there."  
  
"Oh, that would be great," Rory replied enthusiastically. At least someone in the DuGray family held some sort of manners. As she and Tristan's grandfather continued their conversation about post secondary education, she felt something brush up against her right leg. She soon realized that it was Tristan's foot, and she felt a sigh of annoyance rise up in her as she kicked him away.  
  
"Feisty," he whispered to her. "I like it."  
  
"Excuse me," Rory announced, tossing her napkin onto her plate. "I'm going to go. . . freshen up." She pushed her chair away and exited the room, making her way to the bathroom. She could feel his eyes watching her, and she shivered.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tristan listened as Rory and his grandfather chatted, trying to hold an expression of boredom on his face. In reality, he was actually very interested to hear Rory talk about her future. He laughed inwardly to himself as he remembered pegging her for a ditz when he had met her at the club. To be accepted to both Yale and Harvard. . . 'Not only a beautiful woman, but intelligent, too. This will be fun.'  
  
Picking at his food, Tristan removed his shoe, reached his foot out and began to run his foot up Rory's pant leg. He smirked when he heard her intake of breath, but he forced himself to maintain a straight face. He heard Rory excuse herself and he watched her leave. Oh, the body that girl had. Tristan cleared his throat and stood up. "I think I'm going to get some fresh air, I'll be back soon."  
  
Hoping he wasn't being too obvious, he slipped out of the room and into the main foyer. He glanced around at the paintings that were hanging on the wall until he heard the click of the bathroom door and then saw her walking in his direction.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" Rory asked as a weary expression formed on her face.  
  
"Just checking out the house and it's views," he returned, his eyes taking her in. Rory sighed. "Please don't."  
  
"Why?" Tristan asked, walking towards her. "You are so beautiful."  
  
"You're making me uncomfortable," Rory stammered. She felt herself hit the wall behind her, and he was so close to her that she could feel his breath on her cheek. She inhaled sharply.  
  
Tristan smiled and traced his hand over her face. "Just admit that you want me."  
  
"You are the last thing I want. God, you are so arrogant. You're probably used to getting everything you want, huh? You think you can just show girls your car and lure them in with your good looks? Well let me tell you, Tristan DuGray, I am not like most girls." His smell was intoxicating, but she couldn't help but enjoy the scent as she breathed it in.  
  
"So you admit that I'm good looking?"  
  
Rory blushed. "No, I didn't mean that. What I meant was. . ." She was cut off by the most sensual feeling of his moist lips pressed against hers. He gently took her hands and placed them over her head, pinning them against the wall.  
  
With all the strength and will power she could muster, she managed to push him off her. Her head felt dizzy from the intense moment that had just occurred, and she ran her hands through her hair as she took in a shaky breath.  
  
Closing her eyes, she whispered, "Please, leave me alone," before retreating back into the dining room. 


	3. You'll Be the Death of Me

Disclaimer: Once again, I own nothing but some gum, and now, a fleece blanket.  
  
Author's Note: Sorry it took me a while to update this. (A week to me is a while.) I've been somewhat busy with work and sleep and the new Harry Potter book. He's my guilty pleasure, that Harry Potter. Anyways, let me know what you think, and thanks for all of the reviews. They mean the world to me, honestly. So, without further aidu, chapter three.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Rory sighed into her coffee mug as she stared out the window from her comfortable spot at the kitchen table. The unfamiliar sound of thunder rumbled through the house and she shivered, wrapping the soft blanket that was around her waist further around her shoulders as though it would protect her. Unenthusiastically, she popped a piece of her strawberry- watermelon pop-tart into her mouth and frowned. Whoever thought strawberry and watermelon would make a good combination was seriously troubled.  
  
There was a loud crash upstairs and then the accustomed sound of Lorelai stumbling down the stairs. Her grumpy face appeared around the doorway to the kitchen and she scrunched up her features in distaste. "I fell out of the bed," she complained, padding into the kitchen and pouring herself a cup of coffee. She flopped into the chair opposite Rory and sighed. "And since when does it rain in Stars Hollow? It hasn't rained here in like two million years."  
  
Rory smiled at her mother's exaggeration. "Yes, I think it has been at least a million. Rain sucks," she commented as yet another flash of lightening lit up the dark sky. "It feels like midnight or something."  
  
Lorelai agreed. "You'd think they would cancel that fancy prep school of yours because of this weather. I mean. . . one of you could get struck by lightening and die on school grounds and it would be all their fault."  
  
"Or possibly being at the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"Drat." Lorelai grunted, taking a long sip of her coffee and stealing a piece of Rory's pop-tart. Before Rory could warn her, Lorelai had spit the remains of the breakfast snack back on the table. "That is possibly the most disgusting thing I have ever tasted."  
  
"And as much as I would love to stay here and stare at the mush that was just in your mouth, I think that's my cue to get to school." Rory stared in disgust as Lorelai shrugged and put the already chewed pop-tart back into her mouth. She shook her head. "I thought it would be better the second time around. Huh. . . I was wrong."  
  
"Appetizing. . ." Rory sighed.  
  
"Speaking of appetizing, have you talked to Tristan lately?"  
  
"Okay, first of all, Tristan is not appetizing. I can't believe you would even put him in the same category as something like coffee or pizza. And second of all, no. Not since Grandma's on Friday, and I don't plan on seeing him ever again, so please. . . drop it," Rory finished with a nod, as though reassuring herself.  
  
Lorelai glanced at her with one eyebrow raised. "Okay, sorry. Jeez, touchy." With a dramatic sigh, she added, "Have fun in hell today."  
  
Rory grabbed her book bag and threw her hair up in a hasty ponytail. "I will, bye." With a final kiss on her mother's cheek, Rory began to sprint towards Luke's for a final cup of coffee.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Rory shielded herself with her latest bus book as the rain pelted down on her while she ran to the front entrance of the school. The thick pages of 'Swann's Way' did little to protect her from the weather's saturation and she found herself drenched from head to toe before she had even set foot in the building.  
  
Rory muttered to herself wishing she had taken Lorelai up on the offer to borrow her yellow duck umbrella. Her mother had been so excited as she opened it in the house to show it off and then swore at the possibility of being cursed forever by the common superstition.  
  
"I am officially hiding in my bed for the next seven years," she had defiantly declared, and then quickly changed her mind when she remembered that Sookie had promised her a cup of peppermint flavored coffee if she made it to work on time that morning.  
  
As Rory walked down the crowded hallway, she could hear her shoes squeaking against the tiled floor and felt the uncomfortable feeling of water soaking through the soles and into her socks. Water droplets formed at the ends of her hair and eventually ran down her neck, creating a constant feeling of something that she imagined to feel like hypothermia.  
  
As she made her way to her locker, she deposited her book bag and took out the books she would need for first period. She shook her hair to rid it of the rain that had collected and ran her long sleeve over her face in effort to dry herself. Sniffing, she pulled the cotton of her navy sweater sleeves over her fingers and clutched her books closely to her chest.  
  
Before she knew what was happening, she felt herself being pulled into an empty classroom, her hair flying in front of her face and her books crashing to the floor. She heard the sound of the door closing, and then the defying sound of it being locked. A gentle hand moved the strands of hair that had been covering her eyes and she found herself looking into a familiar pair of ice blue eyes.  
  
Shaking her head in disbelief, she managed to let out a long breath, and mutter, "Oh no. . . not you again."  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tristan could not believe his luck when he saw Lorelai Gilmore walk through the doors of Chilton on Monday morning. How had he not noticed her before? She was an image of perfection, he had argued with himself, how could you have missed her?  
  
Of course, he hadn't attended Chilton the previous two years because of an illegal act that had caused his father to send him away to military school, or as he fondly liked to call it, his personal demise.  
  
Tristan shook his head as he reasoned with himself. None of this mattered at the moment. What mattered was that his soon-to-be fling was going to happen sooner than he thought now that he had an easier way to communicate with her. He would be able to see her, talk to her, and make it more difficult for her to resist him with each passing day until she finally gave in to him.  
  
He watched intently from the doorway of a classroom as she opened her locker and put her book bag inside. She shook her head, he assumed to get rid of the rain water that had taken its toll and he found himself biting his lip, fighting to maintain control of his body. It would be weeks, maybe even months before he would be able to forget that image. But then again, why would he want to forget it? It was a move straight out of the NC-17 flick he had watched that weekend, he had thought to himself with a smirk.  
  
As she neared closer to him, her books clutched to her chest, Tristan couldn't help himself. He impulsively reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her into the classroom and closing the door behind her, locking it. He distantly heard her books falling to the floor but ignored it and found himself gently moving the strands of matted wet hair away from her face.  
  
Her eyes held the starting emotion of realization. "Oh no, not you again."  
  
"Well, well, well," he started. "Fancy meeting you here. I didn't know you attended Chilton."  
  
Rory grimaced. "Likewise, and I would have preferred to keep it that way."  
  
"You know, you look really hot when you've just been out in the rain," he commented, ignoring her previous statement. "Everything hugs you. . . in all the right places." Pushing himself against her delicately, he heard her gasp softly and her breathing became slightly irregular.  
  
"Y-you're sick," she managed to stutter quietly, trying to gain control of the situation. With the distinct smell of his cologne and his muscular body pressed up against hers, Rory could feel her mind begin to cloud over. His lips ran sensually over her neck as he nipped lightly at the sensitive skin and a thousand tingles rushed from the sensitive nerve endings. She felt like her knees were going to give way at any moment, and for a moment she was grateful that he was pressed against her so tightly, his large hands firmly holding her to him. "What are you doing?" Her voice was barely audible.  
  
"Just tell me to stop, and I will." When he heard no voice of protest (because for some reason, Rory couldn't comprehend what he was saying due to the sensations his breath on her ear was causing), he found his eyes staring longingly at her rosy tinted lips as he licked his own, and slowly began to dip his head towards hers. With his lips just millimeters apart from hers, the shrill sound of the bell brought them both to their senses. Rory was astonished when she felt herself nearly utter a groan of protest.  
  
"See you at lunch," Tristan whispered into her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth before exiting the classroom with a lingering, obvious glance in her direction. Rory ran her hands through her hair as she waiting for her heart to start beating normally again. Her breath was coming out raggedly as she tried to analyze the feelings that had taken over her. Dean had never made her feel that way before.  
  
Biting her lip, she firmly decided that she would not let Tristan DuGray get to her. He was arrogant and conceited and Rory wanted nothing to do with him. . . and she wouldn't have anything to do with him, because she was strong and determined and she would be damned if a Chilton pretty boy would rid her of that.  
  
As she passed him in the hallway on her way to her class, she felt her pulse quicken when he winked at her before heading in the opposite direction.  
  
'Tristan DuGray,' she thought while sliding into her seat and opening her books. 'You are going to be the death of me.'  
  
* * * * *  
  
What do you think so far? Is it getting too repetitive? Do you like, do you hate, do you want to murder it, marry it? Let me know what you think, because your feedback and opinions are very, very important to me. I love to hear what you think. Thanks again for all the previous reviews, keep 'em coming. 


	4. Denial, Not Just a River in Egypt

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Authors Note: Sorry for the lack of updating, I've been busy trying to get my university courses/schedule organized. . . who knew it would be so difficult to try to get ten classes that I need, without having their times and days clash. . . blah. . . I did get this idea from an episode of Dawson's Creek (a guilty pleasure, I admit), and I do not own anything to do with the show.  
  
Coincidence Casualty - - - Thanks for the tip, I see where you're coming from :) I remember reading a fic. a while ago, where in every chapter they showed the same scene twice from two different points of view, and it was rather irritating.  
  
Sleepneeded911 - - - I'm glad you find the story humorous, that's one of the things I'm aiming for. Thanks!  
  
To everyone else who took the time to review, I love you guys so much! It means a lot to know that you guys are enjoying what you're reading, and if you don't like something, I'll try my best to see what I can do. I love to write, and I'm happy that I am holding your interest with this.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Rory sighed as she looked down at the crisp white sheet in front of her. 'Five months to go and then you're done, Gilmore,' she thought silently to herself as she opened her can of Frutopia. Idly munching on a potato chip, she chewed thoughtfully before thinking about how she was going to pull this semester off without throwing herself off a cliff.  
  
Advanced Calculus. She was good with numbers and graphs if she really thought about it and applied reason to the problem before she began to jot anything down. 'McKiel,' she thought, thinking about the professor that taught the course. 'Good guy if you do the work expected. Shouldn't be too hard.'  
  
Her eyes skimmed down the list of other courses that she would be expected to complete during the next semester.  
  
Advanced Chemistry.  
  
Cellular Biology.  
  
Advanced Physics.  
  
Modern Literature.  
  
And finally, her independent study. . . Journalism.  
  
The final two courses were the only ones that brought any indication of a smile to her face. She had heard from the students at Stars Hollow High that the final year of Chemistry was almost impossible to pass, and with the standards at Chilton, it would be more than impossible. Grabbing her headphones and pulling a book out of her book bag, Rory tried to focus on something else other than the vehement urge to bang her head against the wooden cafeteria table.  
  
Just as she was getting into the plot, she felt an arm sling around her shoulder. Without having to glance up, she knew who it was; she could almost feel the smirk he was sending her way. "I'm busy."  
  
"Too busy for your boyfriend?"  
  
Taking his hand, which was gently massaging her shoulder, she distastefully dropped it onto the table with a thud. "You," she began, feeling a smirk of her own begin to take shape on her lips, "are not my boyfriend."  
  
"Mary, you wound me," Tristan replied, his lips sloping into a frown.  
  
"Mary?" Rory questioned, her eyebrows raised.  
  
"Think about it," Tristan said, and then let his gaze avert to the schedule that sat beside her tray. "Well, well, well. . . looks like starting next week, we will have three classes together," Tristan said with a self- satisfied smile. "Maybe some of your smarts will rub off on me, huh?"  
  
"Nothing that has to do with me. . . will ever rub off on you," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some reading to catch up on."  
  
"Wait, before I go. . . will you help me with something first?"  
  
Rory sighed. "If it will get you away from me any faster, sure." She plastered a fake smile on her face. "What can I do for you?"  
  
"Well, I'm having trouble deciding what I'm going to do this Friday night. My father was supposed to come home from New York to visit this weekend, but surprise, surprise, he can't make it. Now, I was asked out by Jennifer and Courtney, but if the right offer arose, I might just be able to make myself available. . ." Tristan let his voice trail off, and stared pointedly at the brunette who was fiddling with the thin pages of her book.  
  
"Well, I think I help you with that. . ." With a defiant smile, Tristan began to speak of a movie they could see when Rory cut him off. ". . . flip a coin; heads is bimbo, tails is skank." She shot him a sarcastic smile.  
  
Tristan sighed, defeated. "Ouch, where's the love? Well, what are your plans for this glorious weekend?"  
  
"My plans for this weekend consist of a relaxing little encounter known as Mr. Medina's term paper."  
  
He flashed her a bored look, and then after a few moments of silence, his gaze fell on her lips and he subconsciously licked his own. He began to lean forward, and Rory could feel her determined demeanor begin to fade as her breath began to quicken. Her anticipation deflated as his lips dodged hers and went to her ear. "See you in Chem," he whispered before pressing the play button on her disc-man and heading out the doors of the cafeteria.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Tristan casually strolled down the deserted halls later that day. Mr. Medina had asked Rory to go to the storage room in the basement of the school to get the box of textbooks they would be needing for their final assignment, and Tristan had caught a glimpse of her on his way back from the bathroom walking down the marble stairs, and decided to follow her.  
  
Whistling a tune, he finally came to a stop outside the door in the musty lower level. He could see her figure through the narrow slit between the door and the frame, reaching up to the top shelf to get access to a large box. The only thing keeping the door open was a wedge of wood being used as a stopper. Tristan quietly entered the small, dimly lit room and kicked the block away, letting the door close with a quiet 'click'.  
  
Rory quickly turned around and upon seeing who had joined her, scowled. "What are you doing down here?"  
  
"I was sent to help you," he lied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Although I'd prefer to just stand here and watch."  
  
"Well I'd rather you didn't, thank-you-very-much. If you're not going to help me, you might as well just leave." Rory turned back to the shelves of boxes and books and stepped up onto the first wooden ledge to reach the one she was aiming for. Tristan moved forward and took a gentle hold of her hips so that she wouldn't fall backwards.  
  
Finally getting a good grip on the cardboard box, she brought it close to her body and clutched it to her as Tristan slowly let her down from the structure. She let the books drop to the floor with a loud thud and then turned around, brushing the dust off of her hands onto her skirt. "Okay, let's go."  
  
After fumbling with the handle for a second, Tristan sighed and turned around. "Well, Mary, it looks like we have a problem."  
  
"What?" Rory asked, irritation ringing in her voice. Her eyes widened when she saw Tristan hold up the handle to the door. "It just came off," he tried to explain.  
  
Rory's eyes narrowed. "You did this on purpose," she accused, pushing him out of the way. She tried to reattach the door handle, but after several clumsy attempts, she threw it to the ground in frustration. "What are we going to do?"  
  
"Well, Mr. Medina will obviously notice that you didn't come back from your little excursion, and he'll come down to the storage room and let us out." Tristan pulled a box off of the bottom shelf and sat on it.  
  
"Right. We won't be down here for longer than a few minutes," she tried to reassure herself, following Tristan's idea and taking a seat on the floor.  
  
"You know," Tristan began, leaning forward to make eye contact with her. "I could think of a few things we could do to pass the time."  
  
Rory narrowed her eyes. "I loathe you."  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Hello?" Rory called, pounding on the door, her motions slow and tired. "Help, please!"  
  
"You're going to hurt yourself," Tristan sighed from his place sprawled out on the gray cement floor. His arms were crossed behind his head, acting as a pillow, and his feet were propped up on a box full of poetry books.  
  
"I'm going to hurt YOU if you don't shut up," Rory sighed. Finally admitting defeat, she turned and slid down the length of the door. She glanced at her watch. Four-fifty-five. They had been down there for two hours, and there was still no sign of Mr. Medina. "Why didn't he realize that I didn't come back?" Rory pulled a barrette from the side of her head out of her hair and began to twist it.  
  
"What are you doing?" Tristan asked, sitting himself up and watching her in interest.  
  
"I'm going to try to pick the lock," she said as though it was the most obvious solution.  
  
"With a barrette that looks too big to even fit in the lock?" Tristan smirked.  
  
"Well, do you have any better ideas?"  
  
Tristan remained silent.  
  
Rory nodded, running her hands through her hair. "That's what I thought. What if we don't get out of here until tomorrow? What are we going to do for food?"  
  
"Relax," Tristan replied. "I have altoids."  
  
"Oh, altoids! I will never be hungry again. . . note the sarcasm." Rory pulled her book bag closer to her and rummaged through it's contents. "Okay, I have a twinkie and two slim jims."  
  
"Great, we can share those, and have fresh breath for other activities we may want to engage in," he replied with an infuriating wink.  
  
"Who says I'm going to share with you?"  
  
"Fine, I'll just stick to my altoids." Tristan sighed as he unenthusiastically popped one into his mouth and began to chew. "When did you develop such an attitude?"  
  
"I do not have an attitude," Rory replied indignantly.  
  
Tristan raised his eyebrows at her. "Oh really?"  
  
"Really. Only with you, because you drive me crazy."  
  
"I know another way, other than our verbal spars, that I can do to drive you crazy," he implied.  
  
"Why do you have to make every thing I say turn into something sexual? Is that all you ever have on your mind? You know, if you could actually hold a decent conversation with me other than treating me like your next conquest, I might actually consider being a friendly acquaintance of yours." Rory peeled back the wrapper on one of her slim jims and took a bite. Making a face, she forced herself to swallow. "Ew, it's old."  
  
Tristan laughed. "It's better than breath mints. . . and I don't want to be just a friendly acquaintance of yours."  
  
"Well, I don't want to be just a number on your list of girls you've managed to get under your spell and then ditch after a week or so. I'm better than that, and I don't appreciate being treated like a piece of meat."  
  
Tristan sighed, his eyes taking a sudden interest in his shoes. "I'm sorry."  
  
"No, you're not," she scoffed, handing him the half eating pepperoni stick. "No need for you to starve."  
  
"Yes, I am. You want to know something funny?"  
  
Rory shrugged. "I guess."  
  
"When I first met you, I thought you were a ditz." Tristan looked mildly amused. "Turns out you're in the top three percentile of the most prestigious private school in Connecticut. First impressions can be deceiving, and I think you have the wrong impression of who I am."  
  
"I don't think so. You're obviously a player."  
  
"If you want to call it that." Tristan finished off the snack. "Maybe if you got to know the real me, you'd think otherwise."  
  
"Well, if you would take a break from the crude comments, and pulling me into classrooms, maybe I would get to know the 'real you'." Rory started to unwrap the vanilla twinkie, but Tristan stopped her. "Save it for later."  
  
"Do you really think we'll be in here all night?"  
  
"It looks like it," Tristan replied, looking down at his Cartier watch. "It's already quarter to six."  
  
"My mom is going to be so worried," Rory said, chewing absently on her fingernail. She let out a sigh and leaned her head against the door, closing her eyes.  
  
"So what's the deal with your family?"  
  
Rory's eyes flew open. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well, is it just you and your mom?"  
  
"Basically, yeah." Rory brought her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles. "It has been since I was born. My dad proposed to my mom when he found out she was pregnant but she didn't accept. . . they were so young."  
  
"How old?"  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
"Wow. . . that's rough."  
  
Rory nodded. "Yeah. A few years ago, I'd get a phone call every now and then or a card for Christmas, my birthday, Easter, whatever . . . Lately he's been getting better about calling more often and sending me e-mails. I wish I got to see him more, but I'm happy with the way things are. My mom gives me everything I need and more. She's the best."  
  
Tristan smiled. "That's nice. . ."  
  
"What about you? What's the deal with your family?" Rory mimicked, smiling. She actually liked being able to talk with Tristan. When he wasn't driving her crazy, he was actually pretty decent.  
  
"My mother is an uptight snob who pays more attention to planning her next party or spending all of Daddy's money than to her own son." Tristan smiled bitterly. "And my father. . . well, he spends most of his time at his office in New York City and I hardly ever see him. He seemed like a pretty cool guy until I caught him on my mother's new tiled floor with someone who was most definitely not my mother."  
  
"Oh," Rory said, grimacing. "I'm sorry." She shifted her body slightly closer to him so that they were both leaning against the same shelf of books.  
  
Tristan shrugged, turning his head towards her. "It's okay. I think he's part of the reason why I act the way I do. . . I build this wall around myself that I don't let anyone see. I saw how he hurt my mom. She used to be a great mother before she found out about his affair. They're still married, but you'd never know it if you saw them together. They fight like nothing I've ever seen."  
  
Rory's expression was sympathetic. "I don't really know what to say."  
  
Tristan smiled. "That's okay. You listening is enough. I'm surprised you're actually taking interest in anything I have to say with the way I've been treating you."  
  
Rory smiled slightly. "Well. . . when you're not pushing me up against a wall trying to devour my face, you're actually a pretty decent guy, Tristan."  
  
Tristan laughed, and then smirked, patting her knee. "I know you liked it."  
  
Rory felt a blush creep into her cheeks. "I did not."  
  
Tristan put an arm around her shoulder. "Denial. . . is not just a river in Egypt, my friend."  
  
* * * * *  
  
So what did you think? Hurrying them into a friendship to quickly? Too cliché having them locked in a storage room? It was the only thing I could think of that would make Rory actually hold a conversation with him. See the pretty "gray" review button? OoOoOoo. . . click it! I'd love to hear you're response, so do your 


	5. Have Your Cake and Eat it, Too

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or Gilmore Girls. I also do not own Lifehouse or their lyrics.

Authors note: I know, I know! It's been a while since I've updated, but I have been working so much to save my for University, it's crazy. . . they want to milk you for every cent you'reworth! Jeeze. . .Anyways, I'm done my rant. Thank-you for all the wonderful reviews, I'm glad the last chapter was well recieved. I was a little apprehensive to post it. __

To everyone who reviewed, you have _no idea_ how much they mean to me. . . I write for myself, but when I get all of your great reviews, it just makes me want to write that much more. I love you all, thank-you :) So here is chapter five!

* * * * *

_One. . ._

_Two. . . _

_Three. . ._

_Four. . ._

Rory squinted towards the ceiling as she tallied the number of black and white tiles that made the ceiling. Her head was rested against the hard, cement door and her feet were propped up against an open box, her hands folded neatly on her abdomen. To anyone else, it would look as though her spine was being bent at an unnecessary angle and her neck would have a terrible crick when she attempted to sit up, but in the eight hours she had been trapped in the diminutive storage room, she had never been more comfortable. 

The empty slim-jim and twinkie wrappers were strewn over the concrete floor and _'Swann's Way_' lay open beside her. 

Rory sighed. "Thirty-seven," she announced triumphantly.

Tristan looked up from the 'recommended for ages 9-10' book he was mulling over, and looked at her in confusion. "Thirty-seven what?"

"Ceiling tiles," she announced as though it was the biggest discovery she had made.

"Congratulations," he commented, his voice dry. He glanced at his watch, scratching his head and looking wearied. "Eight hours. . . can you believe we've been in here for eight hours?"

"Well, it feels like we've been down here for eight hundred hours. My mom is probably going crazy with panic," Rory said with sadness lacing her voice. She glanced at the floor where Tristan's reading material had been cast. "Finally reading something that you can comprehend?"

Tristan rolled his eyes. "For your information, it was the first book I saw in this box," he defended. "Besides, there is nothing wrong with liking _'Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret'._ It is very educational for those little pre-teen's running around out there."

Rory let out a laugh. "I read that when I was four."

"Well not all of us are brainiacs like you, Mary."

"Hey, I am not a _brainiac_. I just like to read."

"Well so do I, but I manage to have a healthy social life at the same time."

Rory could feel her defenses rise. "I have a great social life, thank-you-very-much."

"I've never seen you talk to anyone besides myself or Paris here at Chilton, and you only talk to me when you're forced to."

"That's because my life isn't here at Chilton or in Hartford like yours is. My life is in Stars Hollow, and that's how I'd like to keep it." Rory crossed her arms and sat up. She grimaced as the pain flowed from her neck down to her spine. 

Tristan shrugged. "Sorry." He inched his way closer to Rory until he was leaning against the door beside her. "You know, all we ever do is fight."

Rory nodded. "Exactly why I tried to avoid you for so long."

"How did we go from acting like what some would call 'friendly' towards each other to fighting like there's no tomorrow?"

"Well, in our case with the lack of oxygen in this stupid room, there might not _be_ a tomorrow."

Tristan raised his eyebrows. "Clever, but I'm serious here."

"So am I," Rory replied with a shrug.

Tristan leaned closer. "Come on. We have this love-hate relationship, but I like it. It works for me."

"Maybe for you. In my case, it's a hate-hate relationship."

"You wound me," Tristan said, a pout taking over his lips. 

Rory could feel her defenses weakening as she looked at his full lips. His eyes were full of desire as he took in her appearance. Her pony tail was now slightly off center, and a few stray hairs had fallen loose from the elastic. She had taken off her navy blue sweater and the cuffs of her Chilton blouse were unbuttoned and rolled halfway up her arms. Her skirt was rumpled from sitting in different positions and her shoes were no where to be found. He had never seen her look so hot.

He smiled to himself as he leaned closer to her face. His lips grazed her cheek, eliciting a small sound from Rory. His teeth captured her ear lobe and nibbled lightly; he knew he was driving her crazy. His lips traced a path down her neck until they stopped at the corner of her mouth. He was about to dip down to kiss those lips he had been craving ever since they had been locked in the storage room when he heard a clear _smack_, accompanied by a searing pain in his right cheek.

He lifted his hand to his cheek in effort to lessen the sting, and then looked at Rory incredulously. "You slapped me!" he accused.

Rory's eyes glowered as she lifted herself from the floor. "I had every right to," she said indignantly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Tristan's mouth dropped slightly. "I thought we had an agreement!"

"Yeah, that you would never touch me again," she said pointedly. "I can't believe that you just spieled all that stuff about friendship to me and then tried to seduce me!"

Tristan let out a haughty laugh. "I did not try to seduce you! I was just going to kiss you. God, it's not the end of the world." He stepped closer to her. "Why can't I just have my cake, and eat it too?"

Rory could feel her jaw dropping. "I cannot believe you just said that." She grabbed her sweater and pulled it over her head, sitting on a box on the opposite end of the storage room. "You disgust me. I am not you're cake."

Tristan laughed. "I never knew you were so uptight."

"I'm not uptight! I just don't appreciate being used like every other girl you've ever dated. I'd rather not be a number on your list, or your trophy girlfriend for the week. What happened to your little speech about me seeing you in a different way, that I had the wrong first impression of you? Because right now, you're acting exactly like you did when I first met you; irritating, arrogant, conceited, and the list can go on." Rory looked emotionally drained as she finished her rant. "After you shared all that stuff about your family, I thought we had actually reached a mutual agreement; we would be _friends_."

Tristan sighed. "You are _not_ that girl," he said forcefully, sighing. "I just don't think I can be 'just friends' with you. I'll always want more."

"Well, I can't give you more right now."

"So where do we go from here?"

"I don't know," Rory replied honestly.

A thick silence hung in the air, both teenagers looking clearly defeated. Fifteen minutes later, a knock on the door broke the utter stillness, and a voice was faintly heard on the other side. "Rory, honey? Are you in there?"

Rory jumped up and ran to the entrance. "Mom!" She called, pounding on the cement. "I'm in here, open the door!" After nine hours, the door was finally open with a resounding click. Lorelai ran into the small room and embraced Rory in a hug that almost knocked her over. "I was so worried about you," she said, bringing her face back to look at Rory's relived expression. "I had no idea where you were!"

Mr. Medina walked in and took Rory by the shoulders. "I am so sorry, Rory, I didn't mean to leave you down here. I had forgotten all about the books and then the bell rang, and I figured you had gotten side tracked, and. . . well, I'm really sorry." He glanced at Tristan. "What are you doing in here?"

Tristan ran his hands through his hair, and replied thinly, "It's a long story."

Mr. Medina accepted that, and then ushered everyone out. "Now, let's all go to our respective homes and get a good night's sleep before all of us get locked in here again."

As Lorelai lead Rory down the long hallway, regailing stories about what a nightmare it was to be at Friday night dinner alone, Rory glanced behind her and saw Tristan, alone, and felt pang of sympathy for him. She sighed, and looked away, not yet ready to deal with all the emotions that were running through her.

* * * * *

_I can't be losing sleep over this, no I can't. . ._

_And now I can not stop pacing,_

_Give me a few hours I'll have this all sorted out,_

_ If my mind would just stop racing._

_Cause I can not stand still, I can't be this unsturdy,_

_This cannot be happening._

_This is over my head, but underneath my feet,_

_Cause by tomorrow morning, I'll have this thing beat,_

_And everything will be back to the way that it was,_

_I wish that it was just that easy._

_Cause I'm waiting for tonight,_

_Then waiting for tomorrow,_

_And I'm somewhere in between_

_What is real and just a dream. . ._

_What is real and just a dream. . ._

_What is real and just a dream. . ._

_Would you catch me if I fall out of what I fell in,_

_Don't be surprised if I collapse,_

_Down at your feet again._

_I don't want to run away from this,_

_I know that I just don't need this,_

_Cause I can not stand still,_

_I can't be this unsturdy, this cannot be happening,_

_What is real and just a dream. . ._


	6. Perception

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a pack of gum and some books.

Author's Note:  How proud are you guys of me? Two chapters in two days! I just needed to get this written because as I was falling asleep last night, I was just writing it in my head. Thanks for all the great reviews you guys have been giving me, I know the last chapter wasn't very exciting, but I needed a way to get them out of the storage room and out of the "newfound" comfortable friendship for a moment. I hope you'll keep the reviews coming, they help tons. Soo, here is chapter six.

* * * * *

Rory lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and willing herself to fall asleep. For her, the weekend went by in a blur. She had finished three novels, and hung out with Lane until Mama Kim said it was time for Rory to leave so Lane could study her bible hymns. Lorelai questioned her about the events that occurred while her and Tristan were locked in the storage room but chose not to believe her every time she heavily said 'nothing happened'. 

Every time she tried to focus on something other than their conversation in the small space, somehow her mind always wandered back to it. _I don't think I can be 'just friends' with you. I'll always want more. _Those words seemed to be etched in her brain, and she couldn't (for the life of her) get them to stop echoing in her mind. Even eating ice cream reminded her of Tristan because at times, the formation of the chocolate chips in the carton looked like the shape of his smile. Rory now solidly believed that she should check herself into an insane asylum.

'_He's a player_,' she would think to herself, and then bury her head in her hands for even thinking about his boyish smile or playboy charm. _It must have been the lack of oxygen in that storage room, it's making your brain cloudy._ However, as the hours of her weekend ticked by, she began to grasp the fact that she was lying to herself. 

What drove her crazy the most was that she couldn't tell whether he was ever being sincere with her. She was so used to security in her small town life that she was thrown off by Tristan's antics. She had never had someone quite like him in her life before, but she had to admit. . . he sure made it interesting.

He had thrown her off her game, and although she was hesitant to admit it to herself. . . she liked it. He challenged her and made her feel things that she had never even began to experience with Dean. He made her mind spin, her lips tremble, her knees tremble with anticipation and her heart rate increased rapidly anytime he was within a ten mile radius. He certainly wasn't hard on the eyes. There was just something about him . . .

Rory sat up in bed, groaning, her blankets pooling around her waist. An expression of realization, surprise and horror were sported on her expression all at once; _she was falling for the playboy_.

* * * * *

Rory didn't know exactly what she had expected when she returned to school on Monday morning. She was prepared for him to pull her into an empty bathroom stall to try to tempt her again, or to attempt to have a friendly conversation, but what he did do hurt her more than she would have imagined.

While reaching for her chemistry textbook in her locker, she spotted his blonde, spiky hair bobbing through the sea of plaid skirts and blue blazers. His eyes locked on hers for a brief moment and she managed a wobbly attempt at a smile, but he just averted his cool gaze and kept his arm around a red-head that Rory didn't recognize, who was blabbering on about the newest make-up she bought over the weekend. 

She felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs and surprisingly, tears stung at the back of her eyes. _Do not cry_, she thought furiously to herself, shutting her eyes tightly, _it will only make him happy that he got to you. You are stronger than this_. As much as she willed the tears to stop, the lump in her throat grew larger and harder to ignore, so she slammed her locker shut, heading towards the bathroom.

Once safely hidden in a stall, the tears spilled out of her eyes and she couldn't stop them. Before she knew it, she was sobbing, furious that he had played with her emotions and used his charm to weasel his way into her heart, and even more upset that she had let him. Exiting the stall several minutes later sniffling and hiccuping, Rory grabbed a piece of paper towel and dabbed her eyes. She splashed cold water on her face and looked up at her reflection, taking in the swollen red eyes and disheveled hair, disgusted at herself for being one of '_those girls_'.

"You look like hell," a voice behind her stated plainly, and Rory spun around to see who it was, her face flushing at the thought of anyone seeing her in such a mess.

"Oh, um, hi Paris," Rory stammered, running her hands through her hair. Paris felt her expression soften immeadiately looking at her; she looked as though her dog had just died. "I just needed to wash my hands," she explained unnecessarily, holding up her hands. "Lamb's eye dissection in McDonald's biology class."

Rory scrunched her nose up in distaste. "Nice."

Paris turned on the tap and washed her hands, glancing nonchalantly in the mirror at Rory who was staring at the floor uncomfortably. As she dried them off, she shrugged. "You know, if there's anything you want to talk about, I'm an okay listener."

Rory smiled slightly. "Oh, thanks, but it's nothing. I found out they're serving green jello for dessert today and I really had my heart set on red." Her usual witty responses were coming back to her, which Rory took as a good sign.

Paris nodded, clearly disbelieving the answer she was provided with but not pressing her for details. "Okay, well the offer still stands."

"Okay." Paris left the bathroom and Rory stayed in there for a few minutes afterwards, trying to compose herself. She needed to talk to Tristan, and she needed to do it soon before she drove herself crazy.

* * * * *

Rory sat at a table by herself in the cafeteria, her food untouched and her book unopened. The Clash was sounding through her headphones, but she wasn't listening. She was discreetly trying to spot the famaliar blonde hair and distinct laugh, but she didn't see or hear him anywhere. Just when she was about to give up, she spotted him off in a corner, attatched at the lips with the girl she had spotted him with earlier. Scoffing, Rory stood up and hesitantly made her way over. 

"Tristan?" She asked, tapping him on the shoulder. 

No response. 

"Hello? Tristan?" she asked again, this time a little louder.

Tristan raised his hand as though to silence her, but did not once tear his lips away from his companion.

Fed up, Rory grabbed his arm and pulled him up from the seat, dragging him towards the direction of the exit. Daggers were shot at her from the girl who he was with, but Rory shrugged and gave her a smug look.

"What are you doing?" Tristan demanded angrily once they were out in the hallway. "I was busy."

Rory rolled her eyes. "This is more important."

Tristan narrowed his eyes at her. "I highly doubt it."

Sighing, she led him over to a bench and they sat down facing eachother. "I just have a few things I would like to say, and I want you to listen to all of it before you say anything."

"I really don't have time for this," Tristan replied impatiently. "Becka is in there waiting for me."

"I really don't care about _Becka_," she spat, rolling her eyes. "It's too bad all of her brains seem to be in her chest."

Tristan smirked, his eyebrows raised in an amused expression. "Jealous, are we Mary?"

"Just listen to me, please." Rory pleaded, ignoring his comment. 

"Fine," he complied, crossing his arms. "This better be good."

Relieved, Rory closed her eyes to organize her thoughts before she began speaking. She found it ironic that their roles seemed to have been reversed; she was now begging him to listen to her and he didn't want to give her the time of day. 

"I know that over the past month, our relation has been. . .  well. . . it's been interesting," she began.

"That's an understatement," Tristan replied sardonically, but Rory held her hand up to silence him. He rolled his eyes, and said, "Right, no talking until you're done, sorry."

Rory nodded her appreciation, and continued. "You know, when I first met you, I thought you were arrogant and conceited and overbearing. . ." 

". . . you know, you can stop any time you'd like," Tristan interputed, then smirked. "Sorry, I couldn't help it."

Rory smiled. "I actually still believe all these things about you."

Tristan frowned. "Did you drag me out to insult me, because if you did. . ."

"No, no, no!" Rory insisted, pushing him back down on the bench when he tried to get up. He flashed a sarcastic grin and replied, "Fiesty . . . I like it," causing Rory to smile at the memory it provided.

"When we were down in that storage room, and you were talking about your family and we actually had a suitable conversation, I just think something clicked." Tristan's face took on a look of surprise.  "And all weekend, I've been having this internal fight with my heart and my mind, and I finally decided to let my heart win. You've drawn me in, and as much as I hate it, I can't help but find it exciting. You provide my life with fun and festivity," she added with an embarressed laugh, "and if we can just put both of our defenses and differences aside. . . I don't know, maybe we could try. . . um, a date?"

Silence fell over the corridor as Tristan thought over everything she had said. Finally, he laughed and said, "Are you crazy?"

Rory's face fell. "Oh, okay, well nevermind then, I just thought. . ."

Tristan put his hand over her mouth to prevent her from speaking any more. "What I meant, was you are crazy if you thought you even had to ask."

Rory let out a long sigh of relief and smiled bashfully, but then turned serious. "I don't want to be a conquest to you, understood?"

Tristan nodded and stood up. "Completely. Thanks for the second chance, Mary. How does Friday sound?"

"Fine, but where are you going?" she questioned as he walked towards the cafeteria. 

"To tell Becka that I'm going to have to cancel our plans for this weekend because I'm taking out the only girl who has ever called me concieted and arrogant but was still willing to date me."

* * * * *

Soooo, what do you think? Let me know! Any suggestions on the date, and what should happen, where they should go? etc. . . I'm willing to _consider_ anything. Thanks.


	7. Have a Little Faith, In Me

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a package of gum and some books!

Authors Note: Sorry, sorry, sorry! It's been a while since I've updated, but I have been so wrapped up with work and reading the fifth Harry Potter, which by the way, is AWESOME!!!!!!!!! (Ahem. . . sorry. . .) So here is chapter seven. . . and remember, _if you review, I'll love you!_

Cleopatra-Queen-Of-The-Nile: Thank-you for all of your input, I took it all into consideration, and I'm very grateful that you took the time to write it. :) You're compliments were very flattering and criticism was well-taken. _Merci_.

Liz Darcy: I love how you always have something to say after every chapter, you are a very faithful and avid reviewer, and I love you for it! 

To everyone else who reviewed, it really does mean **_so_** much to me. Keep it coming :)

* * * * *

Lorelai Leigh Gilmore; the definition of perfection to a tee. She certainly wasn't what Tristan had bargained for in the beginning. He had been hoping for a new fling. . . a good time, but only for a week or so. . . a joyous bout, if you will. No, he had definitely not expected an intelligent, passionate, earnest girl who he was most unquestionably falling for.

As Tristan sat at his desk at home with his copy of _East of Eden, _which wasopen, but cast aside (because contrary to popular belief, Tristan DuGray did actually crack open a book once in a while), he pondered whether this was a good thing, or whether he had put himself in a situation where he or said object of perfection would indefinitely be hurt.

He had very much earned a reputation of being a "player", which by standard, was true. Rory wanted to change him, and though he desperately _wanted_ to change for her, there was still a burning question in the back of his mind. . .it was always there, taunting him. 

_Could he change?_

_Could he give up all the countless girls that wanted him for one, solitary girl?_

He was proud of his player image because he felt as though he was in control of anything that came his way. He could drop one girl and find another within a matter of an hour, and he adored that. The ladies flocked to his allure. 

It was his way of showing his family that he was in charge of his life, and not them. . .but it also scared him to death. He didn't want to turn out like his father, which was why he was sitting at his desk, book unread and coffee untouched, thinking about how he could make things work. His eyes were sore due to the dim light that his desk lamp was contributing and a constant pain was searing at his temples.

The thing that alarmed him the most was the fact that Rory wanted to be with him, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to match up with her expectations. He had never been a one-woman kind of guy, and honestly, he didn't really know how to be.

He knew he wanted to change, but he didn't want to end up hurting Rory involuntarily. She was so much better than that. The real question that he needed to ask himself, but was ignoring because he didn't want to have to deal with it (like a tele-marketer who doesn't get the hint that you don't want anything they are selling, until you finally hang up on them) finally presented itself to him, and he couldn't just hang up on it.

_Do you even deserve her?_

_* * * * *_

Meanwhile, Rory was having a similar debate with herself while she was sitting inertly on the sofa, eating a bowl of Rocky Road and idly watching the television. _Tristan DuGray_, she thought to herself, bringing the spoon to her lips and savoring the taste. _Did she really **want** to be with someone like Tristan DuGray?_

Sure, he was gorgeous. . . and he was rich. . . but to Rory, that didn't mean anything. She was only interested in getting to know what he was like underneath the rugged exterior, and when it came down to it, she really didn't know that much about him.

Did she want to go through heartbreak and anguish for him? Although this might not happen, the nagging feeling that it could prodded her thoughts. Things had been so secure with Dean, and although she hated to admit it, boring; now she felt like anything could happen at any moment, but the wall she had unknowingly built up around her heart was slowly crumbling. . .it just wasn't in shambles yet.

Tediously shredding a scrap of paper that had been lying on the coffee table in front of her, she began to languidly repeat;

_You like him. . ._

_You like him, not. . ._

_You like him. . ._

_You like him, not. . ._

_You like him. . ._

With a heaving sigh of disappointment, she put down the last shred.

_You like him, not._

* * * * *

Friday night, Tristan's polished Benz pulled into the driveway of the Gilmore residence and he nervously stepped out of his car, checking his reflection in the window before making his way up onto the front porch. 

Up until this morning, neither Tristan or Rory had said much to each other in the halls or during classes. They smiled at one another and said 'hi', but that was essentially the extent of their exchange. Both were too apprehensive to say what they were undoubtedly thinking. . . _this is never going to work._

Wiping his clammy palms on his khaki slacks, he rang the door bell. After hearing several thumps and a startled cry, the door swung open to reveal a very flustered looking Lorelai. She smiled thankfully at him, and ushered him inside the foyer. "Thank God you're here. Before you leave, do you think you could be a doll and change our water cooler? I tried, but I am only but a little lady. . ."

Tristan smiled slightly, albeit a tad confused, but nodded. "Sure, Ms. Gilmore, no problem."

Now it was Lorelai's turn to look confused, and she gave him a 'what are you thinking' look. "Never, ever call me Ms. Gilmore again. What, do I look like my mother? It's Lorelai, or 'Rory's cool and wonderful mom', heck you can even call me Betty if you want." 

"Erm-," Tristan began, but was cut off by Lorelai leading him into the kitchen and to the back door. "The extra bottles are out back by the garage, and the thingy you set it onto is in the corner." Tristan nodded and headed out towards the back of the garage where he found what he was looking for. Hoisting it onto his shoulder, he stiffly walked back into the house trying to support the weight of the large bottle.

When he returned to the kitchen, he was surprised to find Rory standing by the table talking to Lorelai, but foolishly shook his head when he realized he should be surprised because after all, she did live there.

She looked amazingly hot, Tristan thought, admiring her light green shirt and blue jeans. Who knew she could make a pair of denims look so good? 

Rory shook her head at Lorelai, but an amused smile played on her lips. "Already making him do manual labor, are you? I'm disappointed, I thought you would at least wait until the second date."

Tristan's head shot up at this comment. _She wanted there to be a second date?_ Of course she wanted there to be a second date, she didn't want to be just another number on his list, he reminded himself. Tristan sighed inwardly, but tried to play it cool. "Hey, it's all in a day's work. You look great, by the way."

Rory smiled bashfully but thanked him. "You don't look so bad yourself. I didn't know what we were going to be doing, so I just dressed casually, is that okay?"

"Well, to be honest, I don't know what we're going to be doing either, so how about we just wing it?" Tristan flashed her a toothy grin, but his cheeks were flushing slightly. _Why hadn't he planned anything? _He was so worried about how things were going to go, he didn't think to make reservations anywhere.

Rory shrugged, but didn't seem bothered by the fact that he hadn't prepared anything. "Hey, I'm up for anything." She grabbed a sweater that had been hanging over the back of a chair and kissed Lorelai on the cheek. "By mom," she said, and then turned to face him. "Are you ready?"

"Whenever you are," he replied and they left the house with abstracted calls from Lorelai, ordering them not to be home before midnight.

Rory smiled awkwardly as Tristan opened her door for her and then went to the drivers side and slid in. He started the car and for the next ten minutes as he drove out of Stars Hollow, a clumsy silence hung in the air. "So, did you want to go eat somewhere?" Tristan finally asked, wearied from the silence.

"Absolutely," Rory said, smiling at him. "I'm starved."

"Do you like Italian?" Tristan asked, thinking about a great place he had taken some of his other dates before her, which they had loved.

"Why don't we just have some pizza, or something?" Rory asked with a slight shrug. "I don't need anything expensive, and I'm really craving some good ole' American pie."

Tristan smiled. He had never taken a girl out for pizza before. They would have clubbed him over the head with their expensive Gucci bags before 'slumming' it in some local hangout. For some reason, he felt slightly relieved that Rory wasn't so high maintenance, but in truth, he somehow knew she wouldn't be.

He felt some of the tension relieved from the vehicle and the silence began to lift.

"Sorry I didn't really talk to you much this week. . . I was a little preoccupied," Tristan apologized, reasoning with himself that he wasn't _really_ telling a lie.

"Oh, yeah, me too," she responded, looking a little embarrassed. She nervously tucked a strand of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "I had a huge chemistry test. . . but you would know that, since you're in my class. . ." she trailed off, her voice carrying a hint of unease.

"Yeah, that was a killer, huh?" 

Rory nodded her head in agreement. "Definitely."

As Tristan pulled into the parking lot of Paul's Pizza Shack, he turned to Rory and raised his eyebrows. "Let's hope Paul makes some damn good pizza." The two of them got out of the car, and discreetly, thinking it was the right thing to do, he seized her hand. Looking down at their laced fingers, and then back up at Tristan, Rory smiled sheepishly. 

_Maybe it wouldn't be so bad being a one-woman kind of guy_, Tristan thought to himself with a small smile, trying to brush away the distinct, annoying feeling of butterflies in his stomach. If she had patience with him while he tried to get the whole 'boyfriend' act together, they would be okay. She just needed to have a little faith in him.

* * * * *

_When the road gets dark,_

_And you can no longer see,_

_Just let my love throw a spark,_

_And have a little faith in me. . ._

_And when the tears you cry,_

_Are all you can believe,_

_Just give these loving arms a try,_

_And have a little faith in me. . ._

_Have a little faith in me. . ._

_Have a little faith in me. . ._

_Have a little faith in me. . ._

_Have a little faith in me. . ._

_When your secret heart,_

_Cannot speak so easily,_

_Come here darlin',_

_From a whisper start,_

_To have a little faith in me,_

_And when your back's against the wall,_

_Just turn around and you will see,_

_I will catch, I will catch your fall baby. . ._

**_Just have a little faith in me. . ._**

**A/N** - - - This was sort of just a filler chapter to get the ball rolling on their date. The next chapter will probably be the rest of it, but for now I just had to write something because I just got in this mood that I _had_ to write. (I love those moods!) To those of you who asked when I would be updating _Ice Cream Monday's_, it's kind of on the back burner right now because it wasn't getting much response. I will probably continue it after I finish _Preparatory Playboy_ story since it seems to be better received.

So, please. . . let me know what you think so far. . . press the pretty review button! You know you wannnnaaaaa. . .


	8. Twenty Questions

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but a pack of gum and a couple of books.

Darasun --- I appreciate your compliments very much because I love all of your stories, so it's a huge deal :) THANKS!

Liz Darcy --- I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter so much. If one person likes it, that's all that matters. . . even though I like it more when lots of people like it :)

TO EVERYONE ELSE WHO REVIEWED: I love you so much! You are all the best people ever, and honestly, I appreciate every review I get, even if it is negative.

**A/N**: This is the longest chapter I have ever written in the history of all my stories, so I hope you appreciate that :) That isn't saying much, because it's only a little over 2, 300 words and many of you out there write much more than that, but it is good for me. So yay me. Anyways, remember, '_if you review, I'll love you_!'

* * * * *

"I am so full," Rory complained, patting her stomach gingerly as they walked out of the pizza parlor. "I can't believe you let me eat an entire pizza!"

"Hey," Tristan protested, holding his hands up in mock defense. "I did not _let_ you. I tried to warn you that it might have tasted good while you ate it, but you would regret it afterwards. See, what did I tell you?"

"Well, you should have been more forceful," Rory argued weakly.

"You made your bed, and now you have to lie in it." Tristan wagged his finger at Rory and smirked at her. Casually, he slung his arm around her shoulder and impulsively pulled her closer to him. She breathed in his scent and a small smile formed on her lips. _He smells like deodorant, cologne, and soap all mixed together. . . mmmm. _

"So," he said, jolting her out of her thoughts. "What do we do now, Mary?"

Rory grinned. "You know, that's the first time you've called me that and it hasn't entirely annoyed me."

"So it only annoys you a little bit?"

"Just a smidgen," she replied, holding up her thumb and forefinger as if to show just how much.

"We could just go for a walk," she finally suggested with a shrug of her shoulders. "You know, talk. . . let me get to know the _real_ Tristan DuGray." She poked him in the ribs teasingly. "Not the playboy, sex-crazed version."

Tristan laughed lightly. "Hey, I can make no promises that I will not continue to be sex-crazed with you beside me, looking all gorgeous. . ." At this Rory's face turned a light crimson as she nervously tugged on her shirt sleeves. "But that walk sounds good to me. We can go down by the boardwalk, I think there might be some sort of festival going on. . . are you in to that kind of stuff?"

Rory pulled away from him and put her hand on her chest dramatically. "I can't believe you just asked me that question. Do _I_, Lorelai Leigh Gilmore, like festivals?"

"I'll take that as a yes," Tristan replied dryly, holding out his hand. "Lets go, then."

As they walked down the sidewalk, a comfortable silence settled around them. The air was crisp and cool as the signs of autumn seemed to be thrust at them; walnut trees were yellowing and the maples were a vibrant shade of dark red and purple. The music of crickets chirping in hedges and shrubs that surrounded them sounded in their ears. Rory felt a shiver slide up her spine.

Without thinking, Tristan took of his sweater and handed it to Rory. Grateful, she slipped it over her head; the sleeves hung well past her fingertips and the hem reached just above her knees. She laughed in spite of herself and turned towards Tristan. "What do you think?"

Tristan smirked. "Perfect fit." _Though you could wear a garbage bag and still look great_, he thought to himself.

"So," Rory initiated. "What's your favorite movie?"

Tristan raised his eyebrows. "We're playing this game, are we?"

"I just want to find out more about you," Rory replied honestly. "Right now, you're sort of a mystery to me."

"The Rain Man," Tristan said with a demure smile. "You?"

"I never pegged you for a Rain Man type of guy," Rory said with a laugh. "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, hands down."

Tristan smiled. "I should have known. The only movie dedicated solely to junk food."

Rory nodded proudly. "That's right."

"Favorite CD?" Tristan asked.

"I can't pick just one," Rory replied, shaking her head adamantly. "It's impossible."

"Agreed," Tristan stated, smiling. "Though I am sort of partial to The Village People."

Rory was silent for a moment. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Let's just keep that between you and I, all right?"

"I don't think I can see you anymore," Rory said vacantly, pulling away from him. "I mean, c'mon, _The Village People_? My mother would have you committed."

Tristan laughed. "I was only kidding," he said, back tracking.

"Uh huh," Rory replied, her tone disbelieving. "You just keep digging your hole."

"Um, favorite junk food?" He attempted to change the subject. 

"M&M's. Favorite television show?"

"I don't watch much television," Tristan said, laughing at the look of shock that crossed Rory's face. "I'd rather be out doing other things. . . you know, like this." He nudged her playfully with his elbow.

Rory smiled. "Well, you had lost a couple brownie points for a second with the no TV thing, but you definitely earned some more with that smooth comment."

Tristan smirked. "I knew it."

As the boardwalk came into view, Rory looked like a little girl in a candy store. There were small but amusing fair rides such as bumper-boats, a small Ferris-Wheel, and a colossal trampoline that seemed to be the size of Stars Hollow. "This is so cute," Rory said, picking up her pace to get there quicker and taking everything in.

The welcoming smell of buttered popcorn filled the air, almost making her mouth water for some, and the smell of roasting peanuts and cotton candy mixed together created a wonderful scent of sweetness. The sound of laughter and chatter traveled through the wind, heard over the sound of carousel music and game attendants trying to lure unsuspecting people into knocking over three milk bottles for a dollar. Clowns walked up and down the stone streets handing out colorful balloons and flyers advertising face painting and fortune telling. 

"What do you want to do first?" Rory asked, as she thanked the colorful clown for the pink balloon he handed to her.

"You're choice."

"What about the --- oh look, street performers! Let's go watch!" Rory said eagerly, pulling him by the wrist to where a man, who was wearing a helmet with a large spike on the top, had rigged a catapult and was instructing an innocent bystander on how to use it. He placed a head of lettuce onto the end of the catapult and when she pulled on a lever, the lettuce flew and he positioned himself so that the spike on his helmet speared it. Rory clapped for him and moaned in disappointment with the rest of the onlookers when he announced he only had one more act left.

Tristan smiled down at her. She acted like such a kid sometimes and he adored it; she made everything, (even something as simple as eating pizza by having a conversation with the toppings), fun. He was surprised that he could actually enjoy a girls company when her tongue wasn't in his mouth. He took this as a good sign.

"Now, I'm going to need two volunteers, preferably one male and one female," the performer requested, scanning the crowd for a couple that would catch his eye. "Oh you two are perfect," he said, looking at Rory and Tristan. Rory looked behind her to see who he had chosen, but saw no one and her eyes widened when she realized he was talking to them. "Oh, no, we just want to watch. . .," Rory tried to protest, but he had already taken both of them insistently by the arm and led them to the middle of the crowd.

"Now," he began, holding out four paddles, and asking them their names. He gave two to Rory and two to Tristan. One was labeled _'Him/her_' and the other was labeled '_Me_'. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions, and you have to hold up which one of you the question applies to."

Rory and Tristan shared an amused look with each other, but Tristan shrugged. "Why not?" he asked. "It could be fun."

The host stood them back-to-back so that they couldn't see the other's paddles. "Okay, I'm just going to ask you a couple of simple questions so that you get used to using the paddles. . . which one of you is named Tristan?" Tristan held up the paddle titled '_Me_' and Rory held up '_Him/her_'. After a few more general questions, he began reading off of a stack of cards he held in his hand.

"Which one of you 'wears the pants', if you will, in this relationship?" The audience laughed as both Tristan and Rory held up '_Me_'. 

"Who would be more inclined to have power of the remote control?" Tristan smiled, glad that he had let it be known that he didn't watch much television. "And we have a match," the host said, and the crowd applauded politely.

After about ten minutes of questioning, the host announced that it was time for the last question.

"Which one of you is most likely to remember when you first kissed?" Rory shifted uncomfortably as she thought about that question. They hadn't _really_ kissed yet, only when he had practically forced himself on her that night at dinner. Hesitantly, she raised the _'Him/her_' paddle. 

"Looks like Tristan is having a little trouble deciding," the host announced, and Tristan mumbled something incoherently. "What was that?" The host put the microphone in front of Tristan. "Um, well," he said awkwardly, "We haven't really actually kissed yet," he admitted, and turned to face Rory, smiling sheepishly.

"Well, there's no time like the present. Why don't you show all of us what a first real kiss should be like?" Rory nervously looked around at all the curious people surrounding them and blushed, avoiding any eye contact with Tristan. 

Tristan, however, just laughed and pulled Rory into a tight hug. "You'll have to settle for that," he said to the host, and then clapped him on the back as he led Rory away from the crowd. 

Rory's pulse slowed down slightly from the anticipation she had been feeling, and she glanced up at Tristan. "Stage fright?" She questioned, a small smirk on her face. She was dissapointed that he hadn't taken the opportunity to kiss her. _Maybe he just wants to be friends_, Rory mused to herself as they made their way over to the rides.

"What do you say we take a ride on the Ferris-Wheel?" Tristan asked, leading her to a small line.

Rory frowned at his sudden change of subject, but went with it. "Sure." When it was their turn, Tristan stepped cautiously into the car and helped Rory in. They locked the bar across their waist and waited for it to go up. They sat in silence for a moment until Tristan spoke up.

"I know this will probably sound completely out of character for me, but I want to tell you something anyway."

Rory smiled at him, encouraging him to continue. "You're probably wondering why I didn't kiss you back there, and it wasn't because I didn't want to --- believe me, I wanted to, and it took a lot of restraint on my part not to." He subconsciously licked his lips, but went on. "It was because, even though I kissed you that time at your Friday night dinner, I don't necessarily think that counts. I didn't want our first mutual kiss to be in front of all those people," he admitted, letting out a slow breath. "As cheesy as that sounds."

Rory smiled. "A little more cheese and you could cover a pizza," she joked. "But that was sweet of you to take that into consideration. Thank-you."

Tristan laughed apprehensively. "I'm not used to this."

"Used to what?"

"Feeling fidgety and nervous around anyone. Before, I'll admit, I thought you would be just another girl. . . but you're not. Every minute that I spend with you, I like you more. You're so smart and fun. . . and I guess I just never thought I would actually develop feelings for anyone. . . no offense," he stammered, and Rory flushed at this.

"I think I'm starting to like the real you," Rory said. "This is the real you, isn't it?"

"As real as you can get," Tristan replied. "I'm not trying to feed you lines here, I swear. I'm just trying to be honest."

"I appreciate that. I think ---" Tristan cut her off by lightly pressing his lips to hers. There was no force or teasing involved this time, and he brought his hands to hers, lacing them together, instead of all the other times when they had roamed her body. It was a simple, clumsy, perfect first kiss. He pulled away and looked at her questioningly. "I'm sorry, I couldn't wait any longer."

Rory laughed, but her smile faded as Tristan leaned in again. He cupped her face with his hands and their lips crashed together again, this time more passionately. His toungue gently grazed her bottom lip and she allowed him to deepen the kiss. Her hands ran through his spiky hair, a difference from Dean's longer unstyled locks. All logical thinking when out the window when he captured her lower lip between his and an involuntary moan escaped her mouth. 

When oxygen was a necessity, they both pulled away, slightly panting. He rested his forehead on hers. "Hi," she said quietly as she searched his face for any regret. She found none. "Hi," he said back, and smiled at her reassuringly. "I can safely say that's the best kiss I've ever had. Who taught you how to do that?"

Rory laughed and reddened slightly. "I don't think kissing is really a skill. . . it just all depends on who it is that you're kissing, and whether or not there's any chemistry. . . which, in this case, there most definately was," she said with an implied look.

"Well said," he replied, and turned to watch as the festival grounds got further away as the Ferris-Wheel went up, the small smile never leaving his lips.

* * * * *

**A/N** --- Corny, yes I realize that, but I just went to the _Buskers_ (a festival exactly like I described this one) and it was still fresh in my mind, so I figured, why not write about it? I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I would love to hear your feedback, so please, _please_, **please** review! Thank-you. :)


	9. Everything's Changing

**A.N** --- Okay, first things first; I am sooo sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story, it has been at least over a month. I have been so caught up with work, and University just started this week, and the week previous to that was Frosh week (I don't even want to get into that, hehehe), but I am very sorry. I will try to be quicker with my updates. 

**LandonLover** --- I know exactly what you mean about the grammar thing, I'm a grammar freak. If a story doesn't have correct grammar and punctuation, I find it extreamly painful to read. (I'm weird like that).

**LizDarcy1** --- I'm so glad I can count on your reviews. They are always honest, and I like that. I am also grateful that you review after every chapter, it lets me know that I am holding your interest. The last thing I want is for the story to get boring or unappealing.

**To everyone else who reviewed** --- you know I love you guys! You make writing this story better. :) So, here is the long awaited Chapter 9.

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Upon setting foot in Chilton early Monday morning, Rory felt the unmistakable feeling of transformation; things would be entirely altered after the happenings on Friday night. Rory hadn't seen Tristan for the rest of the weekend, (which was understandable from her point of view, due to of the immense amount of studying she had done for a huge Biology test), but he had called her twice; she thought this was a nice change from Dean's ten calls per day.

The moment she walked down the crowded hallway, she had the eerie feeling that she was being watched; secretly behind books and locker doors, or obviously by students strutting by or leaning against the wall. Feeling awkward, Rory kept her gaze at knee level of oncoming students until she finally reached her locker, where Tristan was waiting for her.

Rory smiled, her face showing genuine surprise. "Can't get enough of me, can you DuGray?" She asked, her voice light. 

Tristan smirked and held out a cup of coffee. "My savior," she sighed dramatically and clutched the to-go cup tightly in her grasp. "Just what I needed."

Tristan pulled her close and gave her a small kiss. "I'm happy to see you."

Rory smiled. "Like-wise." Glancing around self-consciously, Rory shot a questioning look in Tristan's direction. "Do you get the feeling that people are staring at me?"

"Not you. Us." Tristan responded simply with a casual shrug.

"Why?"

"Come on, Rory, you had to know that us being a couple would generate some sort of response from the student body. This whole institute is nothing but a curious gossip mill. I wouldn't be surprised if there were rumors flying around about us already and it's only been ten minutes." Tristan smiled reassuringly. "It'll stop before you know it."

Rory nodded slowly. "I guess so. Hopefully sooner rather than later," she replied as haphazard girls sent her glares of death. Tristan gently placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.

"No worries," he replied, and keeping his arm placed around her shoulder, led her down the hall. "To Biology we go."

As soon as they entered the classroom together, hushed whispers stopped as people discreetly tried to sneak a look at the couple. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Rory slid into her seat and opened her books. Tristan sat beside her, and almost immediately, a group of girls flocked to his side.

"Hi, Tristan," One of them greeted, eyelashes fluttering. Smiling, Tristan replied hello and returned his attention back to Rory, who was highlighting a paragraph in her notebook. 

With a bright and obviously fake smile, the girl tried again. "What are you doing this weekend?"

"Uh," Tristan hesitated, casting a glance at Rory, "I'm not sure yet. Rory, this is Sarah, Sarah, Rory."

"Nice to meet you," Sarah replied, her tone bored and insincere. "You know, Tristan. . . I'm free this Friday night if you feel up to doing. . . anything." 

Rory rolled her eyes discreetly. "Oh please," she muttered under her breath, causing Tristan to smirk. "Excuse me?" Sarah asked, hands on her hips.

"Nothing," was her response. 

"Sorry, I really don't think I'll have time," Tristan said, and with a final sigh, Sarah stalked away from them.

"Do they always follow you where ever you go?"

"Who?"

"Those gum-popping, flimsy girls."

"Why Mary, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."

Rory laughed. "No way."

"It's okay, it's completely understandable. I'd be jealous if I were you. I mean, c'mon. . . Look at me, I'm so damn irresistible."

Rory smacked him on the arm. "And not at all conceited," she smirked, turning her attention to the teacher who had begun the days lesson.

After a long hour of learning the internal workings of the nervous and endocrine systems, the bell finally rang. When lunch finally came, Rory couldn't have been more grateful. She couldn't wait to unwind with lunch, her Ani DiFranco CD and her newest book, _Sonnets_, which was works of William Shakespeare. However, her attempts were derailed. As soon as she had opened her can of Sprite, and began reading, Tristan slid into the seat beside her, with that now almost endearing smirk, and closed her book.

"Hey Mary, how about a change today?"

Rory looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Come sit with me and my friends today."

Rory looked longingly down at her novel. "I don't know. . ."

"Come on," Tristan begged. "I didn't get to see you all weekend. Please?"

Finally, Rory smiled. "Okay, but only because that was the only time I will ever see Tristan DuGray beg."

"That's not the only thing I would beg from you," Tristan replied, causing Rory's face to turn crimson, and earning him a smack on the shoulder. Tristan laughed, and took her tray, motioning for her to follow and hesitantly, she did. 

Rory had to hold back a biting smile as they approached the table; every single person had the looks of someone who had walked straight out of an Abercrombie and Fitch magazine. It was the picture "elite" group. 

"Guys, this is Rory," Tristan introduced her to all of them, and the guys didn't hesitate to look her up and down. They all greeted her, and Rory sat down, uncomfortable with all the attention.

"So Rory, we're all dying to know how you managed to get our player here to settle down," the guy introduced as Alex asked, elbowing Tristan in the side.

Rory smiled and looked down. "I don't know, you might want to ask him that."

Alex sneered. "She puts out, huh Tristan?"

The guys laughed, and Tristan caught Rory's mortified expression. He looked away, embarrassed. "Guys. . ."

"She must be damn good in the sack, otherwise you wouldn't have kept her around this long," Ben said with a chuckle, clapping the guy beside him on the back.

Setting her jaw, Rory stood up from the table. "Excuse me," she said, and started to head for the exit with the sound of insincere apologies thrown after her. 

As soon as the door closed, Rory leaned against it, her head spinning. She had never met people who were so discourteous and uncivil in her entire life, excluding the time period when her and Paris weren't friendly towards each other. Rory made her way to the bench in the hallway where she and Tristan had made peace and planned their date.

_How could I have been so wrong?_ Rory questioned herself. _He didn't even try to defend me._ _He hasn't changed at all, and as much as I wanted to be the one to make him a one-woman kind of guy, it isn't going to happen. _Rory shook her head, determined. _Tristan is, and always will be, a player._

_* * * * *_

What did you think? I wanted to bring some of the old Tristan back, but don't worry... this isn't the end of Tristan and Rory. Remember: **_If you review, I'll love you!_**


	10. I've Never Wanted Something More

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Author's Note: I know, I know! It's been a while since I updated, but it was quicker than last time. Right now, I'm suffering a little bit of writer's block, but I'm hoping to over come it as soon as possible. Thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter; I love writing this story, and your feedback only makes it that much better. Remember; _If_ you review, I'll love you!__

* * * * *

As Tristan watched Rory's retreating back, her tense and angry muscles evident under her navy blazer, he found himself experiencing inevitable feelings of guilt and shame. Groaning in frustration, he conceived that while most of his other inarticulate and meaningless girlfriends would have laughed at those comments, Rory wasn't like them; she had self-respect and didn't appreciate being treated like dirt. _Obviously, you moron_, Tristan thought to himself, putting his head in his hands. _You've really messed up now. _

Slowly, pushing himself up from the table with the strength of his arms, he shook his head soberly, and plainly stated, "I have to go after her."

Austin rolled his eyes. "Man, she's just another girl. You would have gotten rid of her sooner or later, we know you." 

There was a chorus of groans and protests ringing from the group, but Tristan waved them off. "You guys are the most immature people," Tristan began in a biting tone, but then stopped himself. "Never mind, I've got to go catch Rory and explain." 

Without a second glance to the table of his 'friends', he pushed the cafeteria doors open, only to feel resistance, and a muffled 'ow'. 

As he looked apologetically at Rory, he could immediately tell that she would not be easy to convince. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms crossed, and her stance held an air of demand. "I have nothing to say to you," Rory stated coolly, but Tristan seized her arm gently before she had a chance to walk away. 

"Please, just listen to me."

Rory rolled her eyes. "I've heard it all before anyway, so I really don't see the point. _'I'm sorry, I've changed, I'm not a player'._ Spare me."

Tristan sighed, running his hands through his already unruly hair. "Please?" His eyes held her hard gaze, pleading silently with the sapphire pools, and he saw a quick flash of consideration in her eyes. 

Rory's glare tore away from his, and focused on her blue and cream colored saddle shoe, which was drawing slow circles on the stone tiled floors. With a slow breath, she shrugged her shoulders weakly and her resistant exterior began to deteriorate. "Fine. I'll listen," she agreed, her voice barely audible but still holding a chilled manner.

Gently, he took her hand in his and she reluctantly let him lead her to a more secluded part of the hallway and into an abandoned study room. Closing the door behind him, he turned to face the only girl who had ever had a firm hold on his heart strings. She looked innocently attractive, even with the wary expression of defeat etched on her features, and her once tidy French braid now lopsided and disheveled.

Tristan shook his head, as though he was entranced by some unknown magical force, and reached out to tuck a stray piece of chestnut hair behind her ear. "You are so beautiful."

"Don't," Rory replied, shielding away from his touch, and the silence of the room weighed down on them like a thick fog on an early spring morning. Rory unconsciously tapped her foot, and shrugged her shoulders at him. "Is that it? You think I'm going to let you and your friends walk all over me and then fall into your arms because you tell me I'm beautiful?" She shook her head. "I can't believe I trusted you."

An expression of hurt flickered across his face, but he didn't back down. "You are beautiful," he prompted, and took a step closer. Rory's expression faltered as he came into a closer proximity to her. She stepped back with his every step forward until she was against the wall. "Tristan, you said you wanted to talk, so talk." Her voice was becoming thin and exasperated.

"I'm not used to this." He stated simply, avoiding her gaze. 

"Used to what?"

"This - a relationship - you and I, exclusively dating, with real feelings involved. I don't know how to act, or what I'm supposed to do." Tristan's face began to turn crimson as he looked everywhere but at Rory, who remained silent. "You make me experience these emotions. . . these feelings that I have never had with _anyone_ before, and I'm not quite sure how to deal with them, because honestly, they scare me." He laughed at himself then, as though finally realizing how inexperienced he was at expressing his feelings towards one, solitary girl. It was more difficult that he could have imagined. "I don't want to hurt you, Rory, and I'm so terrified that I will unintentionally cause you pain, and I would never be able to forgive myself for that."

Rory's ever present wide eyes were full of curiosity, but still she remained silent, sensing that he wasn't quite finished. A small smile formed on her lips, and he took that as a sign to continue. "I'm sorry for the way those guys acted towards you. It was demeaning, and I'm ashamed to admit that I used to act like them. You have changed me Rory, whether you realize it or not. I want to be a better person because of you, as clichéd as that sounds. I used to think I was so experienced, you know; the high and mighty playboy. I guess being with you and experiencing who you are makes me realize that I'm still so unknowledgeable, but I want to learn and grow and experience all of these new feelings with you."

Rory let out a long breath. "Wow, that speech could have been a book."

Tristan smirked. "Well don't expect me to bare my soul to you often. I do have _some_ of my reputation to keep. I don't want everyone to think I've gone all soft."

Rory shook her head, amazed. "I had no idea you felt so strongly about me."

"Well, you're quite the girl." Tristan smiled and rested his forehead against hers. Rory gently tugged on his neck and brought his lips down to meet hers in a kiss that wasn't utterly passionate, but rather full of promise. Pulling away from her, Tristan let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried for a minute."

Rory smiled. "Well, you're lucky you're such a charmer, Mr. DuGray."

"What can I say?" He asked, taking her hand in his and leading her out of the room. 

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Rory asked, nudging him in the side.

Tristan smirked. "Something with you?"

"That's what I like to hear," Rory beamed. "You should come over and we can have a movie night."

"That sounds good to me," Tristan replied. "What should we watch?"

"How about you pick a movie, and I pick a movie, and we'll pick the last one together." 

"How do you feel about slasher films?"

"They make for excellent mocking material."

Tristan laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. "Good enough." 

* * * * *


	11. The Festival of Green Lights and Other H...

**A.N** --- Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews! They make writing this story so much better, and once again I apologize for the lack of updates, but I've been crazy busy with this thing I call my life. It's completely hectic right now, but I finally had a night off and I felt the urge to write, so here you guys go! Enjoy! And remember, _if you review, I'll love you!_

* * * * *

Three months later, Rory and Tristan sat side-by-side on the cold wood of the gazebo bench, taking in their surroundings. It was March 17th, and the town of Stars Hollow had gathered together in a lively festival for Saint Patrick's Day. Tristan had laughed at the idea when Rory first mentioned it, but he was more than eager to attend after Rory filled him in on the Saint Patrick's Day fiasco of '97 when Kirk had managed to get his head stuck in a large foam four leaf clover. 

The sun was beginning to set, but the party was just beginning; the town square was bathed in green lights that were strung from tree to tree, and endless tables of food and drinks were set up along the edges of the grass. Irish music blared from the speakers set up along the stage that was off to the side of the gazebo, and Rory laughed as she saw her mother trying but failing to get Luke to dance. Lorelai had bought a can of tinted hairspray and the greenish hue along with the green sparkly dress was enough to attract anyone's attention. Kirk had taken the opportunity to dress up as a leprechaun, and was mingling with the other party-goers, every once in a while clicking his heals. 

Rory looked over at Tristan and smiled sheepishly. "So, what do you think?"

"I think this town is crazy," he replied, slipping his arm around her shoulder. "But I think it's great. You're town will find any reason to celebrate a holiday, and if they want to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day, than party on."

Rory laughed. "This is nothing. Last year we celebrated National Coast Guard day and had a beach party away from the beach."

Tristan raised his eyebrows, but chuckled. "Remind me again how you haven't gone insane yet?"

"Oh I am, but you just haven't seen that side of me yet." She grinned at him coyly, nudging him in the side. 

Tristan leaned closer to her, letting his lips graze across her neck. Rory shivered, but leaned her neck back slightly, enjoying the sensations that were created by the mere touch of him. "Can you believe we've been together for five months?" Tristan's soft but gruff voice shook her out of her reverie.

Rory smiled gently. "I know. This must be a record for you," she joked, but kissed him lightly to let him know she was teasing.

Tristan scoffed. "You're words hurt, Mary."

Rory shrugged. "Hey, if you can't take the heat, get out of the fire."

"Touché," he replied, but stopped speaking as he pressed gently against her, pinning her against the back of the bench. His lips were driving her crazy as they made their way from the base of her neck and up to her earlobe where he nibbled it lightly. Rory felt her senses fly out the window as he pressed his lips to hers in a passionate embrace that left both red in the face and gasping for breath.

As she pulled away, Rory saw the fervor in his eyes and took a sharp intake of breath. _Was she ready to deal with that look?_

As if reading her thoughts, Tristan smiled tentatively.  "I'm not going to make you do anything you aren't ready for, you know that right?"

Rory nodded and ran her hand gently across his cheek. "I know, and I am so lucky to have someone like you. . .you're so thoughtful." She smiled at him timidly. ". . .but I think I _am_ ready."

Tristan's face registered in a look of shock. "Rory, I want you to think about this."

"I have!" Rory whispered, apparent frustration in her voice. "I feel like lately it's all I _ever_ think about. All you have to do is touch me and all rational thoughts just disappear. When I'm around you, all I do is _feel_. My heart rate triples every time you even look at me, and I can't ignore this reaction that you ignite in me. It's the most amazing feeling I have ever experienced, and it's all you. I just. . . I need to be with you."

Tristan shook his head. "I was not expecting that."

Rory laughed lightly and shrugged. "Come on. Let's go somewhere."

Tristan swallowed. "Okay." His voice came out raspy, and he stood, holding his hand out for her. They made their way over to Lorelai, who had finally convinced Luke to make his way to the center of the lawn, and was swinging his arms around in attempt to get him to dance. When she saw the two, her face lit up. "Look Rory! Luke is _dancing_. I didn't even think he knew what that word meant."

Rory laughed. "That's great, mom." She patted Luke sympathetically on the arm and shook her head. "I'm sorry Luke; you won't be able to get away from her for at least another hour."

Luke rolled his eyes, but his face was full of amusement. "I think I'll live."

Rory smiled. "Mom, Tristan and I are just going to go back to the house and hang around for a while."

Lorelai frowned. "And miss all the festivities? I bet Kirk will do something humiliating soon," she suggested, but Rory waved her off. "Nah, we'll be fine."

Lorelai shrugged. "Fine, suit yourself. I probably won't be home until later so don't wait up," she replied with a wink, and the two headed off for the Gilmore residence with Lorelai calling, "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

As the two made their way down the street hand in hand, the conversation was lagged, but not uncomfortable. Both were thinking about the possible events that the night held for them, and Rory felt herself getting nervous, but excited. As they entered the house, they made their way into the living room and sat on the couch. Silence filled the room, and finally Tristan broke the stillness. "Let's put some music on."

Rory nodded, and wiped her hands down the length of her black knee-length skirt to rid them of the clammy feeling they had. "Sure, music. Good idea."

After searching through the rack of CD's, Rory finally grabbed Coldplay and put it in the CD player. "Not exactly romantic, but still a great band." Tristan laughed and shrugged. "Good enough for me."

As the sound of _The Scientist_ came on, Tristan offered his hand to her once again. "Dance with me," he suggested, and Rory laughed. "Are you serious?"

Tristan nodded and pulled her close to him. "Any excuse to have your body pressed against mine." Rory felt the heat rush to her cheeks, but she smiled.

_Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry  
You don't know how lovely you are  
I had to find you, tell you I need you  
Tell you I set you apart  
Tell me your secrets, and ask me your questions  
Oh lets go back to the start  
Running in circles, coming up tails  
Heads on a silence apart  
  
Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said that it would be this hard  
Oh take me back to the start  
I was just guessing at numbers and figures._

"What a charmer you are," Rory replied, her voice teasing.

"Well, I try. . . Thank you for tonight. I feel like I'm a part of this town when I'm here with you," Tristan said, his hand grazing her neck as he spoke. When he came to the tie of her green halter top, he paused, ever so tempted to pull the string and release her from the clingy fabric.

"Pull it," she challenged, and Tristan took in a sharp breath, obviously surprised by her offer.

"Uhm. . . what?" Tristan questioned, taken aback.

Rory laughed lightly. "Tristan, you've been playing with it ever since we started to dance, so why don't you just pull it," she whispered into his ear, her breath on his skin causing him to shiver. He had never experienced such intense feelings of emotion before.

_Pulling your puzzles apart  
Questions of science, science and progress  
Do not speak as loud as my heart  
Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me  
Oh and I rush to the start  
Running in circles, chasing our tails  
Coming back as we are_

"Come on, Tristan." She implored. "Don't you want to?" 

Of course he wanted to. Why wouldn't he want to? He had waited for this moment for so long. Rory was ready, and there she was, in the sexy outfit that hugged her in all the right places. All he had to do was _pull the tie_ and let her free from her imprisoning outfit. So why couldn't he do it? Why couldn't he just. . . pull it? 

"Tristan?" Her puzzled blue eyes stared into his. 

"Rory, I don't. . ." He paused.

"Want me." She spoke quickly. "You don't want me. Tristan, that's okay." She smiled fallaciously, faltering in an attempt to mask her pain and confusion. "Excuse me." Rory lightly pushed her way past him and walked from the living room into her bedroom, gently closing the door and leaning back against it, warm tears threatening to escape her eyes. _Don't cry, she willed, berating herself for being such a fool. _What had just happened in there?__

Tristan stood in the middle of the room, thoroughly stunned. How could Rory even begin to think that he didn't want her anymore? How was it possible that she was blind to how much he desired her, felt for her. . ._liked_ her? He had to explain. He had to make her see that she was completely wrong in her thoughts about him. 

_Nobody said it was easy  
Oh it's such a shame for us to part  
Nobody said it was easy  
No one ever said it would be so hard  
I'm going back to the start. . ._


	12. Interruptions

Tristan was sitting on the sofa in the middle of the Gilmore's living room, blonde head in his hands. The Coldplay CD had stopped playing, and he knew that Rory had probably assumed he had gone home. His head was spinning with thoughts, and he didn't know how to approach them. Of course he wanted Rory – who in their right mind wouldn't? She was so damn irresistible. He dreamed of the day that she would be telling him to remove her clothes, as she had told him just moments before, but for some reason he didn't feel right about actually doing it. His dreams had been plagued by thoughts of her body pressed into his own, the heat between them so pleasurably unbearable, but he wasn't sure if she was ready for the feelings that would arise once they consummated their relationship. Who was he kidding? He wasn't sure if_ he_ would be ready for the feelings that would arise. He had never been so utterly consumed by one woman before.

Tristan's train of thought was derailed when he heard the click of Rory's bedroom door opening. He heard the sounds of the water running, and what he assumed to be a fresh pot of coffee being made. He stood up and made his way into the kitchen to find her back to him, and he took a moment to take her in. She had changed from her festive green halter top and black skirt into a pair of Betty Boop pajamas that he figured Lorelai had most likely bought for her. Her rob was tied securely around her waist and her brown curls were now loose around her shoulders. Rory turned from the counter and their eyes immediately met. Surprise graced her face, and she gave him a questioning look, but her voice was not amused.

"Tristan, what are you still doing here?" She questioned, opening the refrigerator to grab a carton of milk.

Tristan stood, remaining a safe distance from her. He didn't want to overwhelm her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rory curtly responded as she poured a drop of milk into her coffee mug.

"No you're not. Please tell me"

Rory let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, fine. I practically throw myself at you, and what do you do? You stand there, looking at me like I'm a child who doesn't know what they're doing. You know, just because I might not have as much experience as you doesn't mean I am not feeling the same things you are. The same things I thought you were feeling, I should say." Rory glanced up from her coffee mug to meet his gaze. She looked exhausted.

"Rory…" Tristan didn't even know where to begin. He didn't even know what the hell she was talking about. He had been the aggressor in most of this relationship. He had gone after her, lusted after her; he had initiated everything. How could she possibly think that he could lose interest in her so quickly?

Rory let out an exasperated breath. "Look at me. I'm so pathetic. I was practically begging you to take my clothes off, thinking that as my boyfriend you would appreciate the gesture, since it's been so long since you've gotten any action. Everyone knows I'm a Mary. After all, you did christen me with the nickname," Rory practically spat. "Maybe I should just make a vow of celibacy, and sw…"

Tristan silenced her with a rough kiss. It was hot, and passionate, and full of so many emotions that he didn't know how to express to her in words. Rory didn't seem to mind this interruption. Her hands weaved their way into his hair as she pulled him as close to her as she could physically get him. She almost seemed to calm down from the kiss. Tristan continued to fervently invade her mouth until he couldn't take it any longer and the need for oxygen became necessary. He reluctantly took his hands from her face and his lips moved off hers. He stared into her eyes that were now darkened with a look of pure lust. If she didn't get that look off her face sometime soon, he was going to haul her against the counter and show her just what he wanted to do to her.

"You want to know why I didn't do it, Rory?" He was looking right into her eyes. "I'm scared."

Rory's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"I'm scared," he repeated. "I am scared of how I feel when I'm with you. I am scared of how I'm going to feel after we do this. You said it yourself – I'm the love 'em and leave 'em type. As much as I hate to admit this, I have been intimate with girls and never spoken to them after it has happened." Rory grimaced, but Tristan continued. "I know that I have these intense feelings for you, but what if my past pulls me back, and once we do this, history will repeat itself, and I slowly start to distance myself from you? Every time I have been with someone, it has been purely for sex, no emotion behind it, but with you, there is so much emotion that it's scary."

"I'm confused." Rory took a deep breath. "You don't want to sleep with me because you are afraid afterwards you won't want me anymore… but do you honestly think that will happen? Because if you do, you are not the person I thought you were. I know about your past Tristan, and in the beginning it was something that pushed me away from you. Now that I know who you are, I know that you just needed someone who would challenge you in other ways, and I know that you found that in me."

Tristan closed his eyes. "I did find that in you."

Rory's glance shifted to the counter. "So… what do we do?"

Tristan came closer to her, and placed his hands on her hips. "I want you, Rory. I don't know how you could ever doubt that."

"I was so scared that you didn't," Rory said, slowly running her thumb along his bottom lip.

"But I do. So much," He said, pulling her face down and brushing his lips against hers, barely letting them touch. Rory felt so much desire that it was driving her insane. She responded hungrily, bringing her arms up around his neck and sliding her tongue into his mouth. He moaned and untied the knot that was holding her robe together, pushing it off her shoulders – it was taking up too much room. With that out of the way, his hands found her hips and pulled her flush against him, causing her to gasp. He rested his forehead against hers gently. "So what do you want to do about this?" Rory questioned again, her breath hitting his lips causing him to feel even more consumed by his desire for her.

"Rory," he said, his voice soft and serious, "What do you want to do about this?"

"Well," she pretended to contemplate. "I think I want to do this." She kissed him. "And this," she pressed a kiss to his jaw. "And maybe this," she said as she began to unbutton his shirt, placing kisses on his chest after each button was opened. Her hands were shaking, but she didn't care. She was going on what she was feeling.

She slowly pushed the shirt off his shoulders and allowed her eyes to meet his. He just stared at her, waiting to see what she would do next. She didn't do anything though. Her eyes told him that she was waiting for him to make the next move. "I need to know you want this, Tristan. No hesitating, no doubts. Do you want me?"

He answered by taking her lips in his once again, sensuously running his hands down the sides of her body, his hands playing with the hem of her shirt. He ventured under the thin pajama top and caressed her stomach. Rory moaned, and he tore his lips off hers and made his way down her neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses. Rory clutched the edge of the counter feeling like if she didn't her knees would give out. Rory's breathes were coming out quickly as he found a spot he liked and began gently nibbling and sucking there.

The sound of the front door closing brought both teenagers back to their senses. "Rory!" They heard Lorelai call. "Rory, you will never guess what happened…" Lorelai's voice stopped short when she reached the kitchen. She saw Rory's robe and Tristan's discarded shirt on the kitchen floor and her eyes narrowed.

Rory's felt her face begin to burn and she found she couldn't look her mother in the eye. She heard her clear her throat. "Am I interrupting something?" The question was rhetorical. "Tristan, maybe you should go."

Tristan scrambled to grab his shirt, and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry," he paused to offer on his way.

Lorelai tried to understand. She was there before, so she knew what it was like. She offered him a weak smile, but it was strained. "It's okay."

Tristan glanced back at Rory. "I'll call you later." Lorelai's glance made him reconsider. "I'll call you tomorrow?" Lorelai nodded.

At the sound of the door closing, Lorelai turned her attention back to her daughter, who was still starting at the floor. "So, dear child of mine… I trust you to be responsible while I'm not around, and while I'm not all for crashing a date, I think it's good that I interrupted when I did. When you said you were coming back to the house to hang out, I figured there would be some making out, but I think what I walked in on was about to escalate, and quickly. Am I wrong?"

"No," Rory's voice came out in an almost whisper. "You're not wrong."

"I get it Rory. I mean, you have a boyfriend who is practically a Greek god. I see where the attraction comes in, but I need you to be safe."

"I promise I will be." Rory's eyes finally lifted to meet her mothers. "I can't help how I feel. I'm going to be honest – it will probably happen, and it will probably be with Tristan. If it happens, do you want to know?"

Lorelai took a deep breath. She didn't answer, but instead took two coffee mugs out of the cupboard and filled them with the coffee Rory had brewed earlier. Handing one to her daughter, she put her arm around her and led her to the couch, where she sat facing ahead. Rory did the same and they both sipped their coffee quietly.

"Yes, I want to know" Lorelai finally responded. "No. Um… no. Well…"

"Well, which is it?"

"You want an answer now?" Lorelai glanced at her.

"Yes. Right now. Which is it?"

"I guess I want to know. Yes. I want to know. Final answer," she said with a little grin.

"Glad you can still mock Regis at a time like this."

"Yes, well my mocking skills cannot be denied." Silence took over again.

"So, this is good," Lorelai stated.

Rory nodded. "Good."

I realize that this is similar to the situation that happened between Lorelai and Rory concerning Jess in season three, but I thought it was appropriate. AND CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? It has been over two years since I updated this story, but I have become addicted to PDLD's and it just kindled my love of writing, and I decided to try another chapter. Let me know what you guys think, I hope you haven't given up on me, but I suppose I understand if you do – what can I expect from my two year hiatus 


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